


Concessions

by Emrys_Fae, mneiai



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Commitment made under false pretenses, Forced Marriage, Forced Resol'nare, M/M, Mandalorian Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mildly Dubious Consent, Partner Betrayal, Planet Mandalore (Star Wars), Post-Order 66 (Star Wars), Resol'nare (Star Wars), no beta we die like Jedi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:15:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28665342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emrys_Fae/pseuds/Emrys_Fae, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mneiai/pseuds/mneiai
Summary: After Order 66, Obi-Wan just wants to disappear. He flees to Mandalore, hoping that the newly triumphant Mand'alor might grant him sanctuary. But his former lover demands a price. A simple concession.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Pre Vizsla
Comments: 112
Kudos: 354
Collections: ~Hallowtide Recommends~





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Obi-Wan's canon age for the Mandalorian mission is being ignored, as for the purposes of this fic he was eighteen when he met Pre on the Mandalore mission.

"I told you that leaving would be a mistake, but you chose duty. Look at what your duty brought you."

They were far from the only people in the room, but in that moment it felt as though it was only the two of them. Obi-Wan kneeling before the throne as Pre stared down at him, eyes as cold as they’d ever been.

"You're right," he admitted, surprising even Pre. “If I had stayed...." 

Maybe none of this would have happened, maybe Anakin would have been sent off to the Corps and never become a Sith. Maybe someone else would have discovered the clone army and actually investigated thoroughly.

It was impossible to know for sure. But Obi-Wan couldn't rid himself of the certainty that if he'd stayed with Pre, back when Pre had still offered... he wouldn't be the shell of a man that the past few months had left him. 

Pre was watching him, eyes calculating, as though trying to determine how far he could push Obi-Wan, and then undoubtedly determining that he'd push just a little further anyways.

"Nothing can change that it happened," Obi-Wan pointed out, using the calm, reasonable tone that had always served him well in negotiations. "I am here, asking—no, begging—for your forgiveness. I understand if you've moved on, but for what we once had, if that memory means anything to you, please grant me sanctuary." He waited, he thought everyone watching might be waiting, all unsure of what Pre's answer might be.

"And if I say there's a price to your sanctuary?" Pre asked, a note of musing to his voice that was somehow still familiar after all these years. "A trade of sorts."

It wasn't anything less than Obi-Wan was expecting, was preparing himself for. Very little came free from Death Watch, and even less from a Vizsla. 

"What would that price be?" Of himself, there was little that Obi-Wan wouldn't offer, but he wouldn't give up the remaining Jedi he knew of, or give any hints on how to track them down, if that was what Pre wanted.

Though Obi-Wan had no doubt that it was merely the first of his demands, Pre started with a simple statement, "Swear the Resol'nare to me.” Swearing the Resol'nare was far too low a cost, which Pre too knew, smiling in a way that was far too sharp to be considered kind. "And swear your marriage vows to me. You want me to protect your life, then give it to me."

He supposed he should be thankful that Pre still wanted him that badly. That after all these years he still entertained the idea of _marrying_ Obi-Wan. He hesitated, still, even though he didn't know why the idea of marrying Pre—giving himself to Pre—felt like a betrayal when the Jedi were all gone and the only things left to betray were memories. 

The words for both vows were at the forefront of his mind, the Mando'a coming to him easily still, but he hesitated to actually say them. "If you make me your spouse, the Emperor will find out I'm here."

Pre narrowed his eyes, voice going slightly derisive, “I’m not a fool, Mandalore is the only conceivable threat to the Empire, they won’t leave us be whether you’re here or not.” His lips twisted in a familiar frustration. “ _Choose_ : Stay here, safe, with me, or go.”

There was no countering that. If Obi-Wan wanted to stay in Mandalorian space, he wasn't going to be able to fade into obscurity as he'd hoped. "Do you want me to say the words here? Right now?"

He seemed to be considering it, the difference between making Obi-Wan declare himself to Pre publicly versus being allowed to properly remind Obi-Wan of their past together. "The Resol'nare will do. We can handle the marriage vows with just the two of us."

Taking a deep breath, then letting it out, Obi-Wan released the tension within him into the Force. He knew why he was upset, he acknowledged it, while also realizing how useless it was. The words flowed easily when he started saying them, slipping into the Concordian accent he'd learned from Death Watch, learned from Pre, all those years ago. He'd do what he needed to do to appease Pre now, if only to give himself more room to maneuver in the future.

He could feel Pre's satisfaction sharp and clear in the Force, mixed with an aching longing that was deep and old enough to almost make Obi-Wan feel guilty. Around them, the rest of the Mando'ade seemed pleased, which Obi-Wan supposed he should be grateful for. While he was certain that not everyone would be happy with Pre's decision to give him sanctuary, it was promising that at least the closest of his inner circle were content with it. 

Pre gave a curt nod. "Your oath is accepted, we'll finish the rest of your vows tonight. One of the guards will take you to our rooms."

Standing from his kneeling position, Obi-Wan bowed in return, stiff and formal. "Mand'alor." 

A guard stepped forward as soon as he made his way to the door, both as an escort and, most likely, to keep him from making a run for it if he got cold feet. But Obi-Wan was settled, ready, and wasn't about to give Pre the satisfaction of seeing him made an oath-breaker. 

Unsurprisingly, he was led to a suite which was attached to what must be Pre's own, the door between them unlocked and mocking him.

He made a quick survey of the rooms, strangely grateful to see that they were decorated sparsely and impersonally, as though they could have hosted anyone. The suite was also secure, the way only someone as paranoid as Pre could make it. That allowed him to settle, at least to the point where he no longer felt like he would snap out of his skin at the slightest provocation.

Being in the center of Mandalore Sector, on Manda'yaim itself, was perhaps the first comfort that Obi-Wan had felt since that brief moment after killing Grievous when he’d thought ‘finally, the war is over, we can start rebuilding.’

After setting down his small satchel, he was drawn towards the fresher. It would have real water, something he hadn’t experienced in what felt like ages, and he couldn't resist the opportunity to at least _try_ to feel clean.

Stripping quickly, he fiddled with the temperature of the water until it was just under scalding, nothing less could remove the stench of corpses from the Temple, the ash of Mustafar, the sand from Tatooine. He scrubbed at his skin, feeling almost raw. He didn't know how long he'd been there, but the whisper of a familiar presence in the Force drew him back to the moment.

It was Pre, whose presence he had never been able to forget, imprinted on his mind from those lonely, terrified nights first infiltrating Death Watch to the equally lonely, brokenhearted last days when he realized he'd have to leave everything he'd built for his cover life behind him. Boldly, he turned off the water, but didn't rush to dress, instead leisurely drying himself off as Pre stepped into the room.

Pre's gaze ran over Obi-Wan's skin. The lust Pre felt filled the Force, making Obi-Wan’s body warm. Pre stepped forward, catching at the towel and pulling it from his grip, dropping it on the floor behind him. "It's been twenty years, let me see you."

"I'm not the pretty young man I used to be," Obi-Wan pointed out, more matter-of-fact than regretful, making no attempts to hide himself. 

He had already been through many harrowing experiences by the time he met Pre, but since then his life had only gotten harder, and the last few years of the war had left him with more scars than he could quantify and aged him noticeably.

"But only more capable, more competent." 

Pre stepped forward, hands brushing against Obi-Wan's skin along the faint lines of muscle. He shivered—Pre was in full armor, except for his buy’ce and his gauntlets, but Pre's hand was warm where it touched him. Their eyes met. 

"I've watched you,” Pre breathed out, fingers tracing the paths of newer scars, “seen what you've done, watched what you became after you _left_ me."

"I had a duty to the Jedi, just as you had a duty to your people.” He knew that probably didn't help Pre's opinion of the Jedi much, but it had to be said. "And... I thought you would hate me, after the truth came out." 

He hadn't been able to bring himself to disappear into the night, had left a too-brief explanation, as much of an apology as he could manage, along with the beskar'gam he'd had no real right to. He’d broken two hearts with his flight from Death Watch.

Pre hummed. “Oh, I did.” He moved closer. “For years I had plans for what I would do to destroy the Jedi, to destroy the thing that had taken you from me. Now here you are and I didn’t have to lift a finger.” Pre had moved so close he was breathing the words into his ear. “I hope you weren’t expecting sympathy from me, Ben. They stole you from me, the Manda gave you back.”

Obi-Wan shivered at the cold touch of Pre's beskar'gam against his damp skin, biting back the initial response he wanted to give for a more measured one. "I was a Jedi before we ever even met, they didn't steal me, Pre. We can't know if I would have stayed—if I hadn't had my obligations to them, I was still tasked with protecting Satine."

"Satine was a problem easily enough fixed, I took her head myself," he murmured, voice smug. Obi-Wan flinched, he'd known that, of course, had heard when Pre had taken over, had heard what had happened to the most devout of the New Mandalorians. "And isn't that for the best? She would never have been able to protect you from the Empire."

He looked away. Pre was right, Obi-Wan would have never come here if Satine and the New Mandalorians were still in power. If they could have even lasted through the war with power over the planet, let alone the sector. She had been his friend, for as many differences as they'd had, but it hadn't been Satine that had tempted him to leave the Order—it had been Pre, it had been the less horrible traditions that Death Watch had practiced. Perhaps it had even been, as Pre and others had claimed, the Manda longing for Obi-Wan to connect to it as a Mandalorian. 

"Not until after I left, until after my mission was over. We were on opposite sides of that fight."

"Perhaps. But I would have kept you then, saved you. Would have spared you all this pain.” Pre shrugged. “Regardless, you're here now, right where you should have been. And I think it's time for you to make it official. You have some vows you owe me."

Obi-Wan met his eyes, unable to fully hide his exasperation at the demand. "Really? You want to get married while I'm nude and you're in full armor?" he challenged, needing to feel like he had some power. Tugging at a piece of Pre's armor, he raised his eyebrows. "Perhaps you could dress down?"

Pre smirked. "But I do so like you like this." 

At that, Obi-Wan restrained himself from rolling his eyes, instead giving Pre a slow up and down, just as Pre had done to him when he first walked in, making his implication clear. Both of them nude during their wedding wasn't how Obi-Wan would have preferred to say his wedding vows, but it was better than Obi-Wan being the only one naked. 

Pre's eyes darkened in return, the lust in the Force building once more. "Though, I suppose you have a point, I _do_ enjoy us both naked."

"It would certainly save us time, once the vows are said." He gave his best teasing smile, unsure how much of his practiced persona would work on someone who had known him as a Senior Padawan. "We have a great deal of time to make up for."

"That's very true." Pre smiled slowly, but didn't make a move to remove his armor, instead, leaning back against the wall, putting himself on display. Some part of Obi-Wan noted that Pre still knew how to make himself look absolutely tempting, while the rest of him wondered if Pre would ever tire of these subtle power games. "Now why don't you show me how much you remember, and take my beskar'gam off yourself."

There was... not a thrill, necessarily, but some flash of nostalgia that the words drew out of Obi-Wan. He'd done that plenty of times before, after-battle highs dragging them both into whatever room they could find, Obi-Wan barely able to keep his hands off of Pre because for as much as he disagreed with what Death Watch was doing, and as annoying as Pre could get, he was so very good in bed. 

He glanced him over again, licking his lips, hands reaching out with buried instincts to begin removing his armor. "I suppose I'll have to earn my own back?"

Pre hummed at that. "You get vambraces to start with. One of them will be mine, of course. And I'll wear yours." Obi-Wan's hands stuttered a little at that, Pre might have all the power, but in that, at least, they'd be on even footing. "The rest you get to prove to me you deserve to have again."

He carefully set each piece of armor aside, treating it with the reverence expected of a Mandalorian. Which he was now, in a way he'd never been back then. The Resol'nare had been words he'd known, even used against Death Watch in some ways, but had never thought would be his creed. And the marriage vows... could he even manage to raise another child? After what Anakin had become? 

"Your inner circle knows I'm here, your personal guards... will there be an official announcement?" he asked, to fill the space that other words—too revealing words—might otherwise try to fill.

Narrowing his eyes, Pre made a show of considering the question, or perhaps considering his answer. "Eventually, when broadcasting your presence will be most optimal for Mandalore. The War Council will be discussing the best way to use you to our advantage."

Obi-Wan's hands paused. "Will I be on the War Council?" He knew the role a Mand’alor’s spouse was supposed to fulfill, but this was hardly a standard marriage situation. He could see their marriage going either way and just how much access he had to information, to other people, being a privilege instead of a right as it would have been if they had come to this on equal footing, without a perceived betrayal.

"You're talented at war. There's no disputing that." The words sounded like praise but still felt like a condemnation. "You would be a boon to the council..." he raised an eyebrow, "if I can trust you there."

"Of course you can trust me, Pre." Obi-Wan gave a self-deprecating smile, glad that Pre was less Force sensitive than some rocks he knew and there was no risk of him feeling just how much pain Obi-Wan was in. "You wouldn't be marrying me if you didn't know that, despite everything. I will honor the Resol'nare, would you? You are the Mand'alor, your responsibility is first to your people."

"You know I would put our people first." Pre met his eyes, the emphasis on the ‘ _our’_ impossible to miss. "You wouldn't have fallen in love with me if you thought otherwise." Obi-Wan blinked, it was a surprisingly insightful comment from Pre. "You might not have always agreed with me, or with Death Watch, but you always knew that I believed that I was doing what was best for our people."

"Our people," he agreed; saying it... helped. The Jedi were gone and nothing would ever make that pain fully go away, but the Mandalorians were still there, perhaps would even thrive despite the Empire at their borders. "You've spent a lot of time thinking about what I saw in you, I suppose." 

Had Pre really waited all this time to have Obi-Wan back? Had he never moved on? Obi-Wan wasn't sure if asking would benefit him.

“I assumed the sex certainly helped,” Pre responded smugly. “I know you enjoyed yourself there.” Obi-Wan was a skilled negotiator and blushing at simple insinuation would be a negotiation failure. But then, he normally hadn’t slept with those he negotiated with, or fell back into bed with them for that matter. “I wonder if I can still get you to forget everything but my name.”

Obi-Wan couldn't help the fond smile at the old joke. He set the last piece of Pre's armor aside and stood, still naked compared to the kute on Pre, but feeling less vulnerable as that state of undress was nearly nudity to many Mandalorians. 

After opening his mouth to reply, a realization occurred to him that he hadn't given much thought to. "...Considering I'll share your family name, that might be even easier, now."

The flash of sharp desire that flared in the Force and the heated look that entered Pre's eyes made it clear that he very much liked the reminder that Obi-Wan would be his. It wasn't truly a surprise, Pre had always been somewhat possessive. Which meant that Obi-Wan was ready when Pre pulled him in for a deep kiss, wrapping an arm around his waist to keep him close.

He closed his eyes, abandoning himself to the kiss that was every bit as good as he remembered. All-consuming and matched with a push of Pre's own pleasure, a weaponization of traditional anti-Jedi fighting techniques that Pre had utilized nearly as soon as it had been ‘discovered’ that ‘Ben’ was a Force sensitive. 

When they broke off, Obi-Wan cupped Pre’s cheek, studying his face. Pre would never be a good man, but that didn't make him a bad ruler. Nor did it mean he'd be a bad spouse. 

"Mhi solus tome," he murmured, the first line of the marriage vow, and watched Pre's expression and his emotions in the Force.

Pre's eyes locked onto his, and in the Force he was a tumult of love, desire, possession, eagerness. He tightened his grip on Obi-Wan, somehow managing to pull him even closer as he repeated the first phrase back to him. Back and forth they went, each phrase eliciting a sharper, stronger flash of emotions. By the time they had finished the vows, Obi-Wan was nearly dizzy with it all.

He initiated the kiss once the words were said, putting the longing of years behind it. "There was no one else." He wanted, needed, Pre to know that, for as much as his hand was forced, as much as he wouldn't have chosen to marry like this, he still cared about Pre.

"Good. There never will be." Pre kissed him again, deep and heavy. "You were always mine, you always will be." He pulled away a little, a glint of teasing entering into his eyes. "And I suppose, with your confession out of the way, I can admit that you were the only one for me."

Obi-Wan could sense the truth of that in the Force. "I thought you'd move on," he admitted. 

It was one thing for a Jedi to only ever love one person romantically, another for a Mandalorian. For a Mand'alor.

Pre was not someone that Obi-Wan would normally classify as vulnerable, but for a moment he could see the traces of it in Pre's eyes. "Sometimes I wished I could have."

Obi-Wan held him closer, burying his face in Pre's neck. "You should have, you only hurt yourself, pining after me. I would have wanted you to be happy, even if it was with someone else." 

He wondered if Pre would have kept letting him be, once Mandalore was stable, or if Obi-Wan would have found himself lured back and kept. Pre had been so possessive sometimes, it was a wonder Obi-Wan had been able to get away, and for that he'd had to fake an injury so Pre would go on a mission without him.

"I wouldn't have been happy with someone not you." There was a pause, before Pre continued, his tone not quite regretful as he held him tighter. "I wouldn't have let you be happy, with someone not me. I would have killed them. If there ever had been anyone else."

He kept his reaction off his face only out of practice, examining it with half his attention, realizing he wasn't terribly surprised and that, worst of all, something about that idea appealed to him—not the prospect of the killing itself, but that Pre’s feelings for him were that strong. Possessiveness was not something he'd felt, as a Jedi it was the opposite of how he should feel, but knowing that Pre wanted him that much... there was something to that. 

"I know," he settled for, because it must have always been the truth, perhaps even the reason he'd never let himself get closer to others.

Apparently satisfied that they'd gotten through all of the necessary confessions, Pre kissed him again, moving them carefully out of the bathroom, straight through Obi-Wan's, opening the unlocked door that led to, as Obi-Wan had expected, Pre's room. 

"I think it's time I help you to forget about everything not us."


	2. Chapter 2

Obi-Wan woke sore in all the best ways. Pre had wasted no time reminding him exactly how amazing he was in bed and he hadn't been satisfied until he'd exhausted Obi-Wan's considerable endurance. His husband, he reminded himself, more surprised by it now that the drama of the first day and his return to Mandalore was over with.

His husband, who was already awake, though he hadn't left the bed and was instead staring at Obi-Wan. "I thought about your request," he started bluntly after giving Obi-Wan a long good morning kiss. "Whether this will become an official position, I haven't decided, but you have knowledge and expertise that could benefit us. You'll be attending the War Council, at least for now."

Obi-Wan tried to give a reassuring smile. "You'll find I'm really quite good at this." 

He let the last of the morning afterglow sweep from him. His mind raced as he climbed from the bed, already considering the information he'd need to share and how best to phrase it for the Mandalorians. Strengthening the sector was in everyone's best interest.

"I did have people keeping track of you, you know." The matter-of-fact way that Pre acknowledged something that at the very least bordered on stalking was no surprise. "I'm well aware of your accomplishments during the war. It's not the only reason, of course, but it's one of the reasons my inner circle was so pleased with your decision to return to me and Mandalore."

Obi-Wan paused, considering that in a way he hadn't let himself, the day before. "Most of them…know I was a spy, don't they?"

Pre shrugged, almost dismissive of Obi-Wan’s concern. "Yes. They were both enraged and impressed, of course. But they're as aware as I am that you have no one else to be loyal to now. Some suggested you might have traded your life in return for collecting information on Mandalore for the Empire. But it was rejected by those who had known you then."

He imagined having to kneel to Sidious, to pledge himself to the man who’d orchestrated the destruction of his people the way Anakin had. Just the thought of it was enough to make him vaguely sick. 

"The Empire murdered my people, I would no more assist them than you would have the Republic."

After, he hurried through his morning routine, the simple process a good distraction on the verge of a moving meditation. Pre fit into the routine as though he had always been there, slotted perfectly into Obi-Wan's life.

They were nearly ready to leave, Pre dressed in his armor, when Pre stopped them, taking Obi-Wan's right arm into his hands. 

"We'll have to get you a pair of vambraces, of course," Pre murmured as he took one of his own and carefully clasped it around Obi-Wan's forearm. Obi-Wan found his eyes locked on it, his heart stuttering in his chest. He shouldn't be, but he found he was surprised at how much the symbol meant to him. "As it is, given this—" Pre tapped at the vambrace, "—you'll be staying at my side or within the private areas of the palace. We wouldn't want rumors to spread before we're ready to spread them."

"Of course, 'alor." Pre's pleasure in the Force wrapped around Obi-Wan like a familiar blanket, making it clear he'd noticed just how affected by the gesture Obi-Wan was. Obi-Wan changed the subject, not wanting either of them to dwell on it any further, "I noticed most everyone I saw yesterday was Death Watch. What is the state of the other factions? Simply not trusted enough to be here permanently?"

"The majority of the New Mandalorians surrendered peacefully, but I have no use for hut’uun in my court," Pre commented, disgust edging his words. "Most of the other Faithful accepted Death Watch seizing control, there are a few on my council, though none within the inner circle. If there are any of those who called themselves True Mandalorians left, they've not caused any trouble."

"I saw Jango Fett, just before his death," Obi-Wan mused, remembering the fight in the rain against the True Mandalorian leader. "He must have known all along, that his clones were a trap. That must have been his whole focus—destroying us." Foolish, when Death Watch was right there, taking over Mandalore.

"Jango Fett was nothing but a broken man long before he finally died," Pre dismissed. "Mandalore was better off with him throwing his life away to destroy the Jedi and the Republic." He grinned, the expression a little feral, that hint of cruelty returning. "I suppose we can thank the false Mand'alor for that, at least."

Obi-Wan flinched at the words. "And you can thank a Jedi for killing the false Mand'alor," Obi-Wan pointed out coolly, remembering how brilliant Mace had been in battle, how quickly he had taken out Fett using the shatterpoints around them. He focused back on making himself useful. "The New Mandalorians that have survived... I might be able to reason with them, make sure their support stays with Mandalore and isn't swayed to the Empire."

"They always have been so easily blinded by their ideals.” Pre’s tone was once again full of disgust, Obi-Wan was beginning to think it was the only way Pre knew how to speak about the New Mandalorians. "If you can keep them from foolishly destroying everything around them in their pursuit of 'peace', then do so."

"It would be easier if you had kept Satine alive as a political prisoner," Obi-Wan commented, waiting to see what Pre's reaction to that was in order to gauge if his feelings were more related to her or the movement in general, now.

When Pre replied, his voice was implacable, "She couldn't be allowed to live. Not after what she'd done. And I have full faith that you'll be able to sway the New Mandalorians even without her."

"And it had nothing to do with my connection to her?" He kept his own tone casual, curious. Pre was in a good mood, this was the best chance to delve into sensitive topics.

“That was just a very happy side effect.” Pre’s smile sharpened. “Though she was lucky I gave her such a merciful death, I could have given her far worse for daring to claim you as hers.”

"It was just a crush." 

Obi-Wan noticed they were getting closer to the room he'd been in the night before and braced himself. There would be hostility no matter how they played things, he was a Jedi and a traitor in their eyes. The vambrace felt tight on his arm, the bare spot on Pre even more noticeable now that he knew others would see. 

"Wish me luck?" he joked.

"You have me, you don't need luck." He was almost tempted to roll his eyes, but then Pre was wrapping his arm around Obi-Wan's waist, as though he needed something even more obvious to prove his claim on him. "No one but a fool would dare touch you."

Obi-Wan snorted. "I suppose that's as easy a test as any, for finding fools within your administration." 

Looking at ease in any situation was a skill Obi-Wan had learned early on and one he utilized as they walked into the room and every single occupant turned to look at them. In the Force, emotions pounded against Obi-Wan, from outright hostility to relief, even a few that seemed happy to see him. And, since they were Mandalorians, most didn't bother keeping those emotions off their faces, some glaring even with Pre wrapping himself around Obi-Wan in the most obvious way he could.

He was not surprised by the outright dislike, but he found himself somewhat unimpressed with their blatant and easily seen displeasure. It was certainly a very Mando’ade response, but it wasn’t a particularly diplomatic one. One that could end poorly for them. 

Pre had grown to become a successful Mand’alor, Obi-Wan reminded himself, which hopefully meant that he’d learned to control the worst of his temper. He’d not reacted well to being doubted or questioned back when Obi-Wan had first known him.

"Congratulations, 'alor," Reau was the first to speak, and her tone was nearly as smug as Pre was feeling. 

A few echoed her, the most displeased seeming to decide they didn't want to contend both with her temper and Pre's, so stayed silent. 

"Ben will be assisting us on preparing our border for possible Imperial incursions." Pre looked each of them in the eyes, his challenge obvious. The Force itself seemed to still, as though in anticipation of any issue.

“We’re supposed to believe that he’ll be loyal.” The speaker, an older man Obi-Wan didn’t recognize immediately, had a nasty look on his face, disgust and disparagement clear. “When the rumor mill tells us it’s his ad that’s standing at the Emperor’s side.” 

It took only half a second to recognize who they meant when they referred to his child. But it couldn’t be: Anakin was dead. Dead at Obi-Wan’s own hand. Except Obi-Wan hadn’t struck the finishing blow... hidden beneath the table, he fumbled for Pre’s hand, grabbing it and holding as tight as he could manage, trying to maintain his stability.

He could still hear Anakin's screams, still remember how much pain he'd been in, Obi-Wan feeling each moment in the Force, not letting himself flinch away from it. He'd survived that? What state must he be in? 

"A Padawan is not the same as an ad," Obi-Wan said, voice much calmer than he felt. "And becoming a Sith is...the equivalent of becoming dar'Manda."

“You expect us to believe—“ 

Surprisingly, it was Reau who interrupted the man. “Vader is a child killer, our Mand’alor’s riduur would kill that filth himself.”

Obi-Wan’s hand tightened around Pre’s even further—a little surprised that Pre wasn’t pulling away at the no doubt painful grip—as he remembered the footage from the Temple. "I tried to. I... didn't know he survived." 

One of the others made a thoughtful noise. "He's in some life support suit, you must have done a number on him."

A life support suit. Force. Obi-Wan should have finished it. 

“Good.” Pre sounded pleased; he gave Obi-Wan’s hand a small squeeze. “Anything that weakens the enemy.” He narrowed his eyes at the man who’d spoken up. “Any further baseless complaints?”

The hesitation made it clear that if it weren't Pre asking, there would be. But before Pre could do anything, Obi-Wan set a hand on his arm and smiled up at him. "I'm a stranger to some people here, of course they might hesitate to trust me."

Pre seemed only partially satisfied with that, his voice low enough it could in theory be addressed solely to Obi-Wan, but clearly meant for all ears. "It's my judgment they're calling into question." Obi-Wan couldn't protest that, because Pre had a point. He rested his hand over the bare place where Pre's vambrace was missing. It was apparently enough, because Pre nodded curtly. "If there are no further problems, then we'll begin."

Tension had increased in the room, but everyone settled into their places and the meeting started. A lot of it was beyond Obi-Wan, who hadn't had any opportunity to catch up on the state of Mandalore from the inside. He could figure enough out, however, and had a good deal of still relevant information on the GAR forces that had become the Imperial military.

The thought of turning that knowledge against his men ached, even with their attempt to kill him on Utapau. But he remembered the Temple, Anakin might have led the massacre, but he hadn't been the only one there. The clones had made a choice, and Obi-Wan had now made his. If that meant giving the Mando'ade enough information to ruthlessly take advantage of any weak points, then that was what he'd do.

He could feel Pre's approval in the Force and leaned into it, allowing it to comfort him through the meeting. Every time he talked numbers, spoke of the chain of command, he had to check himself before listing the details. There would be no more Jedi.

Pre wasn't the only one pleased, many of the Mandalorians were radiating satisfaction, and even those who still clearly disliked his presence were taking careful notes. He stopped talking once he'd finished detailing the state of the former GAR. There was more he could share: the state of the Senate, those likely to be truly loyal to the Republic, those who could be swayed by fear or money. And of course those who would be willing to work against the Empire. But that was information he wanted to share with Pre, not with Pre and a group of Mando'ade that Obi-Wan didn't know well enough to fully trust himself.

At the end, they moved onto discussing the Emperor and what overtures he'd made. Obi-Wan wasn't surprised to hear that the Sith had reached out to Death Watch, wasn't even surprised to find out that they had some vague relationship with the former Sith Master. It still didn't feel right to him, even knowing how close the Sith and Mandalorians were throughout history and how many of those among Pre's inner circle were willing to tentatively consider a truce. 

"We can see what happens with the Sith and the Hutts," one pointed out, "their territories are less secure, if he doesn't honor his truces, he'll strike them, first."

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he agreed with that. Palpatine recognized power, he knew the difference between simple danger and an actual threat. The Hutts were dangerous, yes. But the Mandalorians were a threat. Not only for their military prowess, though that was a considerable element: if Mandalore played their cards well, they were a threat because they provided an actual option for those who wanted to flee from the Empire. No one would ally with the Hutts, but they would ally with Mandalore. If Palpatine was intelligent, and Obi-Wan knew he was, he would come after Mandalore while they were unprepared.

From what he could see, he wasn't the only one that doubted giving the Empire a chance. He studied those who felt skeptical or even disapproving in the Force. Future allies of his own, perhaps. 

"The Sith want nothing more than power, unquestioned power—Sidious will always prefer us weak."

“But it would be foolish for us to be the aggressors,” someone pointed out. A number of people scowled at that, though no one protested. “The Empire outnumbers us.”

"Expansion isn't necessary, securing the sector is." Obi-Wan did his best to keep his tone neutral, because he knew they probably wouldn't like the next part. "And securing everyone here from Sith manipulation."

Several people stiffened at that, alarm twisting through the Force. 

"Over my dead body." Obi-Wan turned to see who it was that had muttered it, almost certain that it had been the man from earlier. 

Pre leaned back in his chair, eyes thoughtful as he considered it. "How much of a concern do you really think that is?"

He grimaced. "He was skilled enough at subtle Force magic to keep the entire Council from noticing he was even Force sensitive while in the same room with him. It's likely he can manipulate unprotected minds very easily." Shivering, he remembered all of the times he'd been so, so close to Sidious without ever realizing. "There are basic ways to start shielding, but without testing it's difficult to know how well those shields are made."

It was a stark reminder that he would have to do a careful search of his own mind. He didn't think there was any lurking taint of the Sith's Darkness, but he knew better, now, than to underestimate Palpatine. 

"You'll begin with me," Pre decided, "and then move throughout the rest of my council." His eyes flashed over the room, making it clear that it wasn't up for debate.

"As you wish, 'alor," Obi-Wan agreed, putting enough reverence into his voice that he hoped the others remembered he was there due at least partially to old loyalties to Pre, even if he couldn't act on them until this point. "I'll only do as much as I need to test them, I have no interest in actually invading someone's mind, as the Sith Lords will."

Some of them believed him, though there were just as many who remembered every single reason that the Jedi and the Mandalorians hated each other and would never trust him. Still, Pre had given an order, and Obi-Wan thought, for all that they distrusted him, they were loyal to Pre. Or at least he hoped. His own trust in other people's ability to stay loyal had taken a beating he wasn't sure he'd recover from soon.

Obi-Wan sank into his chair, doing his best not to think of the tragedies of the last few months (of Anakin). As if sensing his unease, Pre grabbed his hand, threading their fingers together. 

"I have other business to attend to today," he announced to the room, while most of his attention was on Obi-Wan. "I'll expect new reports tomorrow morning." 

The council said their polite goodbyes, to Pre, and filed out, leaving just the two of them sitting there.

Obi-Wan waited until the group had left before following the light tug and letting himself be pulled into Pre's side. He rested his head against Pre's shoulder, the cool beskar'gam against his skin a balm against his aching soul. It'd been a long time since he'd really thought of the armor he'd left behind but in this moment he missed it. 

"You trust them?" Obi-Wan asked, knowing that Pre would understand his need to ask, and not assume that Obi-Wan was attempting to cast doubt on any of his advisors.

"As far as I can throw any of them, but they'll put Mandalore first and none of them have the support to actively challenge me to become Mand'alor." Pre ran his free hand through Obi-Wan's hair, the glove harsh enough to keep him planted firmly in the present. "We may have once allied with the Sith, but none of us have forgotten how many times they stabbed us in the back. And this Emperor," he said the title, as he often had, with a sneer, "has gone about his own bid for power in the most cowardly way."

Mandalorians always had despised cowards, Obi-Wan thought, smiling faintly. Nor did they back down from shows of power. He tilted his head to the side so that he could see Pre's face. 

"Just how urgent is the rest of that business you mentioned?" Pre raised an eyebrow in question, prompting Obi-Wan to continue. "Distract me?"

Pre stood and pushed Obi-Wan's chair back enough that he could lean over him, kissing him deeply. "My dear riduur, you're the rest of my business for today. If I didn't have a sector to run, I wouldn't have let you out of our rooms." His hands ran over Obi-Wan, finding all the places that he had long ago learned drove him wild and somehow remembered still, and Obi-Wan could only allow himself to be thankful Pre had waited until they were alone as he clung to Pre's shoulders, letting him have full control of the situation. 

"I'll take you here," Pre murmured in his ear. "I'll take you on my throne. I'll take you in every empty room in this palace, until everywhere you enter will bear the traces of the pleasure I gave you."

Obi-Wan shivered, imagining what impressions they would leave in the Force. He already knew he'd have difficulty sitting in this chair tomorrow without the memories of what Pre was planning. Not that he would mind that—such distractions could only be good things, now. 

"Pre, please."

He needed no further encouragement. His gloved hand tangled in Obi-Wan’s hair and pulled his head back so that his neck was free for Pre to mark at his leisure. His mouth moved with slow, but clear intent, marking Obi-Wan’s neck with reminders, as his free hand ran teasingly over Obi-Wan’s body. 

“Keep begging, cyare.”

That was an easy command to follow, he'd never been too proud to beg and knew how easy it was to get what he wanted from Pre with just a few words. "Please, I need you, Pre. You're so good to me." 

Tomorrow there would be bruises that no one could mistake the origin for, but any of the older Death Watch members had seen that before. Pre liked to mark his territory.

Fortunately, Obi-Wan had always liked to be marked. With each plea that slipped from Obi-Wan’s lips, Pre’s lust and satisfaction heightened even further, pointed and purposeful bouts of pleasure aimed at Obi-Wan with the specific purpose of upping his own desperation for Pre’s touch.

It was, he supposed, a very good thing that the Jedi never had to actually fight Death Watch, because if all of them knew how to weaponize their emotions this way, they would have had a very hard time against them. The offhand thought had him realizing once more that the Jedi would never again exist in such a state to be a threat to Death Watch, but Pre distracted him with a hard bite and a particularly brutal wave of desire that forced a whimper from Obi-Wan's lips, his hips rocking forward. 

"Please."


	3. Chapter 3

The smirks that greeted Obi-Wan as he and Pre walked through the hallways made it clear that no one was oblivious as to what had taken place in the meeting room after the rest of Pre’s council had left. Obi-Wan noted reactions carefully, relieved to see that most people were either amused or pleased, though of course there were those who watched him with narrowed eyes as though his actions only proved the worst of him.

"We should think about how we want to break the news," Obi-Wan pointed out, playing with the vambrace he wore. "Before it gets out ahead of us." The last thing he needed was uncontrolled rumors getting back to his former allies in the Empire.

"From what you know of the Emperor and Vader—" Obi-Wan flinched at the reminder of Anakin's Fall, "—what would their first steps be if they learned of your existence here?"

Obi-Wan stroked his beard, staring into the distance. "Understanding that what I know of both of them is...questionable given what they had been hiding...I believe that Vader will want to come directly for me—" He'd been full of rage and hatred for Obi-Wan, enough that it still hurt to even think of it. "—but will be prevented from doing so by Sidious. Who will possibly attempt to bribe you, as he's used to others giving into him for that, then threaten you when that fails."

"Bribery and threats." Pre nodded at that, not surprised. Of course, Obi-Wan considered, that would seem natural. He was well aware that Pre and Death Watch had used very similar tactics during their rise to power. Pre's arm around Obi-Wan's waist tightened. "Not that there's anything that would convince me to give you up."

Obi-Wan allowed himself a sincere smile, ducking his head into Pre's shoulder. "If it came down to me or your people, you'd have to choose them," he protested, knowing just how badly Anakin would probably want him dead for what he'd done (dreading what Anakin must look like, must feel like, with the injuries he received, festering in the hate and pain of the Dark).

"I'll always do what's best for our people," Pre assured him, voice sincere. "But you shouldn't underestimate my ability to keep you safe. I've gotten this far, haven't I?" There was a heavy feel of pride in the words, a feel that Obi-Wan had to admit was deserved. Pre had taken Mandalore, had stabilized it despite being surrounded by a galaxy at war.

"I thought you could do it, if you had the chance, back then," Obi-Wan admitted, because Pre had actually been a decent enough leader, it was Tor who had hurt Death Watch's movement the most. "I wasn't very surprised to hear you did." Just so sad to hear that Satine had been executed, even if it was likely a kinder fate than imprisonment under Death Watch would have been. "You've accomplished so much in just a few years."

"Imagine what I'll be able to do now, with you by my side." Pre smiled at him. "The famed High General, the Negotiator, standing beside the rightful Mand'alor." He leaned closer. "Have you ever thought about it, Obi-Wan what the two of us together could do? What we could make of Mandalore, of the galaxy?"

He hadn't, he had never craved power and never imagined himself as anything but a Jedi. Even when he thought of leaving, for Pre and Mandalore, there had been no thoughts of what position he would have. It was something he clearly should have considered, he realized, he was the spouse of the Mand'alor, even without an official posting in the government he had a high rank. 

"I suppose I can talk you into more level-headed decisions," he teased, hiding all of the stress the idea was causing him behind a flirtatious tone.

Pre laughed at that, thankfully not catching Obi-Wan's uneasiness. "Oh, I'm sure you'd be able to talk me into most anything."

He smiled back as best he could. "I don't suppose I could talk you into food? It's been a while since I've had a Mandalorian meal."

"For you, cyare? I believe we could manage something," he teased, guiding Obi-Wan towards where he suspected they'd find food. "I hope you haven't lost your taste for spicy foods. We can't have the rid'alor embarrassing us."

"I can handle my spicy food just fine." He had missed it—the taste, the sensation, the burn. Still, no reason to let Pre feel too secure. "If I'll be doing any embarrassing, it will be telling the stories of how you first attempted to seduce me into your bed when we met."

Pre grimaced, but he was laughing. "I was successful!" he protested, dropping a kiss on Obi-Wan's cheek to prove his point, to which Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.

“I took pity on you.” Which wasn’t entirely true, but also wasn’t completely false either. “And then you were very, very good in bed.” 

And had... wanted Obi-Wan. Wanted Obi-Wan with so much passion Obi-Wan hadn’t been able to forget it, had felt like the moth drawn to the flame of Pre’s passion.

Pre was still chuckling. "You're just easy to please." 

They entered a formal dining room, with two places already set out for them. The smell of the food made Obi-Wan take a deep sniff, feeling nostalgic for the Concordian fare Pre preferred.

“Oh.” His mouth was watering. “I’ve missed this.” He sent Pre his teasing look. “Maybe more than I’ve missed you.”

He didn't look offended, just brought Obi-Wan to the chair. Where Obi-Wan couldn't help but notice that all of the food...were his favorites. "Oh, you remembered this sort of thing?" He hadn't expected that, that seemed like such a small detail for anyone to remember about him for so long.

“I remembered everything about you.” 

Pre, Obi-Wan thought, really needed to learn the difference between being sweet and being creepy. And yet Obi-Wan still loved— the thought caught him off guard. But it was true: he loved Pre.

Obi-Wan sat in the designated chair next to Pre, feeling almost dizzy from the realization. For a few years, he'd even been forgetting Pre. Moving on. The Clone War was good for distractions. Then it seemed almost like the war was going to end and the Senate made noise about eventually sending the Jedi back to Mandalore to look into what had been happening since Death Watch had taken over, and Obi-Wan had been thinking about Pre again. Remembering the good times he'd had, despite the civil war happening on Mandalore and his own spying, to comfort him in the lonely, depressing nights between battles. 

"Everything? That seems worrying."

His riduur laughed. “Nearly two decades later and I’m still in love with you. I don’t think there’s anything to worry about.” Pre started loading Obi-Wan’s plate. “Unless you’re thinking about the time you disappeared with only a note.”

He took time to enjoy the first few bites of food, feeling even more awkward than he thought he had since arriving. "Pre… you understand, don't you, why I had to?"

Pre didn't answer immediately. Focusing on his own food in a way that made Obi-Wan feel a little anxious. "I understand why you think you had to," he started, the words feeling more like condemnation than absolution. "But if you'd come to me and told me that you were a Jedi spy, working to protect Satine Kryze of all people...I still would have sworn the riduurok to you that very night."

Obi-Wan's eyes widened, hand tightening around his fork to keep from dropping it. "You all hated the Jedi. And Satine. I was sure if you found out…." He shrugged, struggling with a flood of feelings of his own and the certainty pushing at him from Pre. "I thought you'd kill me."

"Never." The pure confidence… Obi-Wan wanted to claim that Pre was looking at the past through rose-colored lenses—Pre's assertions felt impossible. But Pre shook his head, almost dismissive of that past. "But it doesn't matter now, I've gotten you back, and I know you're not leaving me again."

Again Pre came across as creepier than he might have planned, though Obi-Wan supposed he wasn't wrong. And while Obi-Wan was familiar enough with others' relationships to know most wouldn't say that outloud, Pre had a reason to want to make everything as unambiguous between them as possible, after Obi-Wan's own admission. 

"We are married, after all,” Obi-Wan responded, an attempt at reassurance.

Obi-Wan wasn't surprised by the sharp sense of satisfaction that slipped into the force at his recognition of their marriage. He suspected he wouldn't have to use it often—or at least he hoped he wouldn't—but there was no doubt in his mind that the mention of their marriage would help soften Pre.

He reached over, stroking a hand through Pre's hair, deciding that indulging himself the day after his marriage was allowed. "Has there really not been anyone else? I won't be upset if there was." He'd be relieved, even, knowing Pre hadn't just been obsessed with him, waiting to find a way to drag him back.

Pre actually seemed to recognize that Obi-Wan felt that way—the man could be emotionally astute when he wanted to be. His face softened. "I know what you're thinking. That it's... unhealthy. But there's nothing wrong with giving your heart to one person and staying true to that. Didn't you do the same? You told me I was the only one for you, was that a lie?"

"I'm a Jedi. I… was a Jedi.” His grimace was mostly suppressed. "As you might appreciate, I had little chance for romance. Beyond experimenting with my peers there were just odd missions where I had to temporarily get married or that sort of activity." He waved a hand, visually dismissing those events so Pre would see he didn't take them seriously.

He didn't miss the flash of sharp jealousy that meant Pre would take it seriously regardless. For an irrational moment Obi-Wan thought Pre might demand a list of names, but the jealousy was shoved away quickly enough and Pre met his gaze firmly. 

"Even when I was sure that I'd never see you again, I never moved past you. Once I realized I might be able to have you back… I leapt at the chance."

There was something there, something in the Force putting more emphasis on Pre's words than he'd been expecting. Obi-Wan didn't know why, but he tried to dissect the possibilities. 

"Might be able to have me back? You weren't sure?"

Pre blinked, looking momentarily caught off guard; he glanced down at his food, taking a bite. When he spoke again there was a tinge of hurt to his voice, "You came to me, you asked for sanctuary, of course I hoped. But then you still balked at my asking for you to be my riduur, offering excuses and playing evasive. How could I have been sure when you acted as though it was a burden, a trap?"

Obi-Wan watched Pre, still feeling like there was something off, but having no way of knowing what that was. It would come to him eventually, he was sure, the Force was guiding him towards some information and would not stop.

"I couldn't be sure how you felt, after everything. After years apart, knowing I was a Jedi spy. Of course I was reluctant."

"But you understand why your reluctance might have made me feel hesitant about whether you truly cared for me still." 

The logic, Obi-Wan admitted, was sound. They should have talked, should have had a moment when others weren't focused on their every movement and word, but that wasn't how the cards had been dealt. Yet they were here now, together and strong. He leaned forward, kissing Pre slowly, the spices from their meal adding a pleasant burn to the kiss.

He noticed the guards' amusement spiking and settled back into his seat, knowing that whatever they were talking about on internal comms was probably at his expense. "I'm surprised you didn't try to contact me, after taking power, if you felt that way."

"Would you have given an offer from me a single moment of thought, when the Jedi and the war were still demanding your attention?" The words were strangely non-judgmental. "I was willing to wait until I thought I had a chance."

"Before the war, without the war, maybe. Once my..." he ducked his head, berating himself for still feeling so emotional over something he could not change, "...Padawan had been Knighted. Maybe. The last decade was...hard. And my future felt uncertain." The Council had been so wary of Anakin (it hurt to know how right they'd been), that sometimes it had made Obi-Wan feel like the Jedi might not be for him, anymore, even if he hadn't thought there were other options.

"Oh, Ben'ika," the old endearment in that understanding tone hit Obi-Wan in the gut, painful and heartwarming all at once. "You don't need to be uncertain, you know you have a place here, a place with me." 

Obi-Wan flushed, the promise settling over him comfortingly. Somehow, even with the threat of Sidious and Vader, a whole Empire screaming for his death... things felt more certain now, more secure, than they had in years.


	4. Chapter 4

Obi-Wan had awoken early in the morning, deciding to lie in Pre's arms and meditate. During the night, news would have reached Coruscant about his presence on Mandalore, his marriage to the Mand'alor. Today they were all anticipating what reaction that would garner, a Jedi criminal as basically Mandalorian nobility. Given that, he needed all the help he could get with his nerves. 

"Time to get up," Pre whispered in his ear, just before their alarm went off. "Stop worrying so much, we'll get through this. Mandalore endures."

The words were meant as a comfort, but they didn’t feel that way, not in the moment. Not when the Republic that had endured for thousands of years had fallen. Not when the Jedi that had stood as a beacon of light even longer were all gone. Not when both of those things had fallen due to the manipulations of the man now in charge of the Empire that stood in opposition to Mandalore.

Pre kissed the back of his neck before sliding from the bed, pulling Obi-Wan with him. "Our advisors will be waiting for us," he pointed out, moving Obi-Wan around like he would a doll as Obi-Wan found little motivation to prepare himself. He might be the cause of more death, more destruction, very soon.

"Why aren't you more concerned?" he complained, finally letting Pre's tugs force him into movement. 

He helped Pre finish with his armor, the familiar ritual of dressing his riduur in the protective beskar providing him a center of focus within his maelstrom of emotion.

"What will happen will happen, we've controlled this situation as much as we could." Pre seemed to pull up every ounce of his own confidence, letting it support Obi-Wan in the Force. "You've seen our plans, you helped create many of them, you know we can hold out."

"We shouldn't underestimate Sidious." The words were familiar in his mouth, he'd been saying them over and over. In part, as a warning to Pre who seemed to have been born confident, but also a reminder to himself. He couldn't let his guard down.

Pre caught his arm, kissing his hand, holding his gaze for a long moment. He felt some of his tension slip away despite himself. Pre smiled triumphantly, before taking one of Obi-Wan's vambraces and carefully latching it around his arms. 

"I love you," Obi-Wan murmured as Pre used his grip on his arms to pull him closer. He pressed forward to kiss Pre, reveling in the moment, before pulling back. "Whatever happens, I love you." 

Pre's satisfaction and love surrounded him, powerful and intoxicating. "I love you, I have always loved you, Ben'ika. That has never changed." 

They walked together, a united front, Pre's arm around his waist offering Obi-Wan comfort, silent support. It wasn't just the risks, he had come to realize, it was that this would mean Anakin knew where he was. What he was doing. He could only be glad he hadn't brought the twins, that his being in Mandalore with no babies in sight would keep Anakin believing they were dead.

They made it to the meeting room quickly. The rest of Pre's council was already gathered around, the atmosphere a strange mix of guarded and confused. Obi-Wan took his seat to the right of Pre. 

Pre didn't even sit down before getting straight to business. "What news have we received from Coruscant?"

The council glanced between each other before one spoke up, "There is… not much to report, 'alor. The Emperor has...declared that Ben Vizsla, once Obi-Wan Kenobi," she wrinkled her nose, "is cleared of any involvement in the crimes of the Jedi Order and that no actions will be taken against him as long as he stays within Mandalorian space." 

Obi-Wan would have been less surprised if Pre had taken out the Darksaber and stabbed him in the gut. The news made no sense. Sidious despised him.

It... It had to be a trap. He wasn't sure yet how it was a trap, but it seemed the only conceivable answer. 

Pre however was nodding, calm and at ease and... much less surprised than Obi-Wan was. "Good." One hand came to hold Obi-Wan's own, grip tight and reassuring. "I see no situation where Ben's presence will be needed outside of Mandalorian space. Have our spies keep a close eye on Vader, however. His rage might blind him from his better reasoning."

Obi-Wan's riot of emotions came to an abrupt stop. He stared at Pre, frozen in place. He'd known, somehow. That's why he hadn't been worried. He'd known the result from the beginning.

He didn't speak for the rest of the council meeting, mind unable to focus on anything the council was saying. How could Pre have known? The obvious solution was that Pre had made some sort of deal. Except...he had hardly let Obi-Wan out of his sight since he'd arrived. There might have been moments, but surely not enough time for Pre to negotiate a deal with Sidious that involved keeping Obi-Wan alive. 

How had he done it? When had he— Obi-Wan froze again, mind slowly putting together bits and pieces and coming to a conclusion that was as horrifying as it was plausible.

He waited until they were alone, knowing that whatever Pre's answer and his own ultimate reaction to it would be, he couldn't undermine the Mand'alor in front of his staunchest supporters. Mandalore couldn't afford to be divided, even if Pre had… if he had allied with Sidious. 

His voice didn’t waver, when he finally spoke, despite the aching pain of betrayal. "This entire time, you let me believe the Empire would be a problem. That I was putting all of you at risk."

Pre’s face was a mask, his emotions carefully locked down so that Obi-Wan could get only the vaguest of feelings from him. “I didn’t think you would take it well, you were wary and blaster-shy of anything to do with Sidious. Talk of an alliance of any sort might have easily spooked you, if I mentioned it too soon.”

"There is no situation where I would be comfortable with a deal with a Sith Lord! What did you agree to?" 

If Pre had agreed to too much… Obi-Wan wasn't sure what they'd do. He'd still try to fix things, find a way out for them, but he could only hope that Pre hadn't been so very foolish, that he'd realized who and what he was dealing with and that it wasn't worth it to give anything more than lip service.

“You don’t need to worry about that. The terms of the agreement have already been met on both sides. And Mandalore is still preparing itself for an eventual betrayal of our armistice.”

He stared, the Force nudging him, prodding him to keep asking. "What were your terms?" He had a bad feeling about what Pre would take as compensation.

Pre leaned back in his chair, and for a moment he looked much more the Mand'alor than he did Obi-Wan's riduur. "When I managed to take such decisive control of Mandalore, the Sith reached out to me for an agreement. They requested that we... infiltrate and destabilize a few sectors." Pre waved his hand as though it wasn't important. "Help spark some into fighting that the Separatists could take advantage of and that would keep the Republic running ragged. We swore to a mutual armistice, both during the war and after the Sith took control of the Republic." Pre hesitated, just for a moment. "And, of course, he promised me you."

Obi-Wan stood, pacing away from Pre, needing to put some distance between them. He'd known Death Watch wasn't an ally to the Republic, of course—even Satine would have hesitated at outright allying with them during a war—but to find out he'd been an active enemy, Obi-Wan's enemy, that none of them had ever expected was there, that hurt, somehow. And served as an unwelcome reminder of how oblivious he'd been to the Sith plots during the war. 

It was easier to focus on just the most personal aspect of it. "Me? Am I a war prize to you? An object to be bartered and sold?"

Pre was watching him pace, but made no move to get closer, wisely realizing that Obi-Wan would not be able to handle having Pre in his space just now. “I told you, Ben, I would’ve done whatever it took to have you back at my side.” The words had at times wavered between creepy and sweet, mostly because Obi-Wan had thought Pre _hadn’t_ done ‘whatever it took’. Now they just seemed terrifying. “Especially,” he continued, “when you’d be dead otherwise. You realize if he hadn’t been planning on letting me have you, you would have died with the rest of them?”

Obi-Wan scoffed. "Is that truly what you believe? My men shot at me, Ana—Vader tried to kill me. Sidious did nothing to make sure I lived." 

No, the Force had been screaming at him from the moment the order had gone out, his death a constant possibility. Pre had been fooled, just as anyone who made deals with a Sith would be.

There was a flash of all too familiar rage in the Force, but Pre smothered it quickly. "Yet here you are. No threats, no bribes, no bounties. Your name cleared and your place on Mandalore safe and secure. We can debate his methods, or his apparent lack of them, but by all appearances the Sith kept to his word."

Pre's ease at hiding his emotions and dealing with Force users gave Obi-Wan the slightest hope that he hadn't just been mindtricked into believing that. 

"Convenient for him. If I'd died, I'm sure he had a dozen excuses, he probably would have blamed it on me." 

"And if you had died he'd have to contend with a Mandalore that had been busy finding weaknesses to exploit." Pre raised an eyebrow. 

He folded his arms, wishing he had the comfort of large sleeves to tuck them into. "You made a deal with a Sith Lord working towards the genocide of my people and yet questioned why I never felt safe coming to you after you knew I was a Jedi."

"You didn't think I was so foolish as to not ensure that my infiltrators just did his bidding? Your death would have been answered for." That still left the last, the more important question, unanswered. "I loved you, Ben."

He wondered if this was some attempt to get back at him. Obi-Wan had been helping the New Mandalorians, did Pre see this as exactly the same? In the Force, Pre was pushing his love forward again, seeming sincere in that. 

"I don't want to be near you right now," Obi-Wan stated, because feeling Pre, seeing him, wasn't doing anything to help him calm down. He started towards the door, trying to think of somewhere nearby he could meditate alone.

Pre stood, the screeching sound of his chair against stone at the abrupt movement echoing through the room. For a moment, Obi-Wan wondered if Pre was going to attempt to physically restrain him. He almost wanted him to try, wanted to prove that Pre couldn't control him. 

"You've clearly just had a shock, you shouldn't be alone right now." The words were careful, for all that the tone was sharp. "You can stay here and actually talk to me, like the riduur we are. Or you can have a full squadron of guards accompany you."

Obi-Wan's initial reaction would have made the situation so much worse, so he bit it back. Pointing out that riduurok under false information wasn't necessarily binding would have possibly not just angered Pre, but made Obi-Wan an actual prisoner. "I wish to be alone to process this… shock."

"And, yet, until you've calmed down and worked through it, I have to consider that you're quite possibly a threat to your own safety. It would be irresponsible of me to allow that." 

Pre thought Obi-Wan was going to run. The realization wasn't fully a surprise, in part because... well, Obi-Wan couldn't swear that he wouldn't. Pre had worked with Sidious. Against Obi-Wan, against Obi-Wan's people. Had essentially tricked Obi-Wan into the riduurok. "Once you've calmed down—" had come to see things from Pre's point of view, Obi-Wan mentally translated, "we can re-evaluate."

Obi-Wan worked through escape plans in his head, going over guard rotations, exit points, what it would take to get off Mandalore. Every route would mean hurting people who were innocent in this. And that didn't even include what life after, on the run from the Empire and Mandalore, would entail. 

"There is no need to re-evaluate. The situation is clear."

"I agree." Pre still hadn't moved towards Obi-Wan, hadn't tried to block him from leaving. Obi-Wan suspected that he simply didn’t need to, that there would be no clear way out; Pre had proved countless times that he wasn't a fool. Though his deal with Sidious certainly threw that into question. "You swore yourself to me. As your riduur, as your Mand'alor. I don't think the situation can be any clearer than that."

Obi-Wan gritted his teeth at the reminder of Pre's position. If he challenged him on both counts, who would even support him? It had been part of their deal, one made in front of others. "May I return to my rooms?" They were too secure for him to break out of, but the flimsy door between them and Pre's would feel like some sort of privacy.

Pre pursed his lips, clearly considering it. Obi-Wan had no doubt that Pre would prefer to just force him to stay. He clenched his fists at the thought, not sure what he would do if Pre did do that. 

"For now. I can escort you, or I can have you escorted there. But make no mistake, that isn't a permanent solution."

"No, I didn't think you were going to keep me permanently locked in a room," the sarcasm slipped out, edged with Obi-Wan's nerves. He tensed, walking heavily towards the door, but not so quickly that Pre might think he was running.

Pre let him leave, though Obi-Wan could sense the quiet bank of frustration. This wasn't over. Pre wasn't going to let it be over. 

There was a squad of guards already waiting for him just outside the door. "Just this way, rid’alor." 

Obi-Wan followed obediently. He didn't want an escort. Wanted to be alone. But even more, he didn't want to be trapped in that room with Pre.

He locked the door behind him when he reached his rooms, knowing that all of the guards probably had an override, and Pre certainly did. He'd spent very little time inside of this part of the Mand'alor's suite, sleeping and bathing mostly in Pre's rooms. While they didn't feel familiar, they did lack impressions of Pre. Sinking into a meditative state proved difficult, but he wanted—needed—to address the wild storm of emotions running through him.

They were volatile, edged with the heavy feeling that he had no control—that perhaps he hadn't had any control since he'd arrived. 

He wondered if it would be a step too far to move some of the furniture in front of the door that led to Pre's rooms. A not-so-subtle statement that he wanted nothing to do with Pre. A tiny attempt to take back some degree of control. But it could also make things worse, and Obi-Wan was hesitant to make things worse when he still wasn't completely sure where things stood.

Pre gave him a few hours to himself, presumably going to his other meetings during the day, before knocking on the door between their rooms. "Ben'ika? I had dinner brought for us." 

His tone was polite, calm, as if this was all normal. His emotions… they were locked down tightly and Obi-Wan knew very well anger could have festered there, waiting to be released. His own emotions had leveled out, to a resigned acceptance of his fate (for now) as he had no other options than Pre.

"You can come in," Obi-Wan told him, keeping the part of him that wanted to remind Pre that he clearly didn't care for Obi-Wan's permission quiet. 

He came in, setting the food down on the table before moving towards him. Obi-Wan stiffened but still let Pre brush a kiss against his lips though he did nothing to return the affection, which led Pre to giving a put-upon sigh, as though Obi-Wan was being a difficult child and not a potential enemy. 

"Are you feeling better?" He sat down at the table, motioning for Obi-Wan to take the seat beside him. "You can't keep retreating into yourself when you're upset, Ben'ika, it's not healthy to repress everything like that."

"I feel fine." Obi-Wan took the seat. "Betrayed by someone I thought I could trust, but that's hardly new. The time alone helped me to start working through it." He gave Pre his Negotiator smile. "I appreciate your concern for my health."

Some of Pre's anger slipped through, dark and fierce enough to make Obi-Wan worry about the extent of it. "I haven't done anything you didn't do. The New Mandalorians sought my people's destruction." His voice was steady, even, the voice of the Mand'alor.

The accusation was enough to cut at Obi-Wan. Because while he hadn't been planning on it back then, he'd entered a relationship with Pre under false pretenses first, working for the enemy. He wanted to say it wasn't the same, that the New Mandalorians hadn't slaughtered Death Watch, but a cultural genocide was still a genocide. 

"I didn't treat you as some tool to be bartered for."

"No, you just took me to your bed to steal information to give my enemies." 

Pre placed food on both of their plates, movements far calmer than his words. Obi-Wan stared down at it, not protesting at the control that Pre had taken over the situation.

He wanted to argue that Pre had been the one to pursue Obi-Wan. It felt like a moot point, a mere technicality, because Obi-Wan had let it play out, had given information Pre had entrusted to him while the two of them had been intimate to Pre's enemies. 

He took a bite of the food, the motion near mechanical, unable to find real enjoyment, despite the fact that Pre had once again brought Obi-Wan's favorites. Obi-Wan should have never come back here. He should have realized that nothing between him and Pre could have ever truly been good. Not with the past what it was.

"I've cleared our schedule for tomorrow," Pre informed him, seeming to ignore how that made Obi-Wan tense, his hand gripping his fork so hard it was nearly trembling. "We haven't had a whole day to ourselves since you've returned."

Obi-Wan forced the food into his mouth, before carefully setting his fork down. It was too clear a giveaway and Obi-Wan was already at a disadvantage.

"I presume you also have a plan for how we'll be spending our day?" Obi-Wan's mind raced through the different possibilities. Each of them feeling more uncomfortable than the last.

Pre smiled, reaching out to lay his hand over Obi-Wan's as though in a comforting gesture. Touching right now made Obi-Wan's skin crawl. 

"There's a new museum here in Keldabe, since the last time you visited, that I thought you would enjoy. And a local restaurant that I've made lunch reservations at, they make classic Mandalorian dishes." Public places, where they'd have to play at being a loving couple.

It was better than some of the alternatives, there would be no risk of any deeper intimacies being expected of him. Under normal circumstances he'd even say that the plans were downright sweet, they were certainly tailored more towards Obi-Wan's interests than Pre's. But at the same time, he had no doubt that Pre would be pressing the advantage of what was expected in public, when he knew Obi-Wan wouldn't do anything to shatter the image. 

"That's very thoughtful of you," Obi-Wan managed. "I look forward to it." 

The idea came to him, as he spoke, that there might actually be something to look forward to. If the opportunity presented itself for Obi-Wan to silently... disappear. No walls. No guards. No fight. No fuss. 

But Pre had thought of that eventuality, as well.

He smiled, bringing Obi-Wan's hand up so he could kiss his knuckles. "We'll have a full contingent of guards, of course, we wouldn't want anyone trying to hurt you because you were a Jedi or because you were a Jedi and now rid'alor." 

Of course there would be, and probably more than that following them, watching Obi-Wan's every movement. If he ran, they'd say he was kidnapped, perhaps, would have an excuse to have everyone looking for him and thinking they were helping him or their Mand'alor.

"Yes.” He forced a smile. “It would be unwise for us to take no precautions." 

He took a deep breath, gathering himself together. Pre was not being particularly subtle about his expectations, and Obi-Wan resisting would only cause more and more restrictions to be placed on him. He forced a smile, trying to dredge up the emotions from this morning, when he'd thought that no matter what happened he had Pre. 

“Perhaps we could spend some time in the market as well. You've given me my vambraces, but I've yet to paint them; I'd like to choose some appropriate colors."

"Of course, cyare." Pre was happy enough at the show of Obi-Wan's interest in a Mandalorian practice. Maybe he'd loosen some of his restrictions on him. Not this time, probably not for weeks, but eventually. "Perhaps we can pick up a few other items for you, as well. This room is still so impersonal."

Obi-Wan smiled, nodding. "A good idea." He ran his eyes over the rooms, grateful for the opportunity to take his attention away from Pre. "It could use a touch of life." 

He felt mixed about the offer. It could mean that Pre didn't expect that he would be spending as much time in Pre's rooms as before. Or it could simply be that Pre wanted to nudge him into making the place his own, to help him have a small level of attachment to it.

"Are you done eating already?" Pre leaned in, pressing a kiss to Obi-Wan's cheek, acting as though everything was normal between them. "We could break in your bed."

Obi-Wan froze, not sure what to do. He could still remember the rage that had leaked from behind Pre’s shields. Knew that sex would appease Pre, might help ease his anger sooner, faster. He should do it. He’d faked emotion and intimacy with Pre before, back when he’d been a padawan, and that had eventually given way to true feelings, true emotion, true intimacy. But he couldn’t. Couldn’t take that step back. Nor, though, could he turn Pre wholly away, not without stirring up Pre’s rage again. 

He tilted his head, pressing their foreheads together. “Just sleep. I’m still hurting.” He paused trying to gauge if that had been enough or if he needed to give something more, Pre’s emotions were a storm. “Hold me?”

Pre seemed pleased with the concession, as if he was expecting a fight on everything, and happy enough to guide Obi-Wan over to the unused bed in his room, stripping off their clothing as they went. "Always, Ben'ika. I'll always comfort you, always be here for you. You'll never need anyone else again." 

Obi-Wan suppressed a shudder, knowing now just what lengths Pre would go to in order to make something like that true.

He didn’t want to answer. He knew that Pre fully intended to ensure it became reality, but he didn't want to acknowledge that it might be, already. Obi-Wan placed his hand against Pre's skin, running his hand up along his shoulder in a soothing gesture to distract Pre from his non-answer. 

Shifting backward to the bed, Pre pulled Obi-Wan with him and he let himself be moved down into their normal position, Pre's hold feeling so much more possessive than it had that morning, when Obi-Wan had thought that he knew him better than he had. He felt like a fool for not having realized sooner, with all the hints Pre had given that he'd been obsessed with Obi-Wan. 

He stared at the hand resting on his lower stomach, trying to ignore the way Pre's lips caressed the back of his neck. If it wasn't for the recognizable love coming off of Pre at points, he would think it was only obsession, that maybe Obi-Wan had fooled himself into thinking love had ever been present. 

"Is this good?" Pre asked, kissing the back of his head, only the slightest tension making it clear he wanted more.

There was only one answer he could give. He moved his own hand to where Pre's rested, tangling their fingers together. He could feel Pre's emotions spike, warm and possessive and pleased. 

"Yes." He did his very best to relax into the hold, to give Pre the impression that this was enough. That Pre was enough. "Of course. Of course it's good."

Pre's emotions in response were what he'd hoped they'd be, contentment melting into him, attempting to make Obi-Wan relax just from the familiar feeling of it. "I love you. I'll never let anyone take you away from me."


	5. Chapter 5

Obi-Wan carefully donned the armor he'd earned over the past few months. Using the moment to calm himself. Anakin—Vader—would be here today with his guard. A 'state visit' to the Empire's 'allies'. Obi-Wan supposed he could at least be grateful that Sidious wasn't coming along as well. As it was, he was fairly certain that was the only way this situation could get worse. 

There was a knock on his door and Pre walked in before Obi-Wan could do so much as answer, gaze running over Obi-Wan, appreciation filling the Force. "No Mand'alor has ever been as Manda-blessed as me, to have you as my rid'alor."

He smiled at him, holding his buy'ce loosely in hand as he made his way over to Pre, falling back into the pattern he'd perfected over the last few months. Sometimes he forgot he was playing a part, it was so easy to just let himself be comfortable with Pre. It would be so easy to give in again. The news of the Imperial visit had helped pull him from the edge of forgetting why he was upset, had brought back the knowledge that Pre was allied with his enemies in stark relief. 

"It's true, one wonders how you got anything done before me," he teased, feeling amusement from Pre and the guards outside who had overheard him.

"Perhaps I did it all in pursuit of you," Pre teased back. The words were too close to the truth for comfort, though Obi-Wan had some peace in remembering that Pre had done much of what he'd done for Mandalore's sake. He pulled him in for a tender kiss that Obi-Wan returned, letting it fade out gradually before pulling away, then met his gaze. "Vader's ship will be entering the sector soon. Is there anything you need, before we go to meet them?"

Obi-Wan tensed at the name, shaking his head. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be." 

He gripped his buy'ce tighter, staring into the visor. He could keep his face covered—as far as he understood, Vader would be covered the whole time as well. That didn't make him feel less vulnerable.

"I won't let him touch you," Pre assured him, wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan. "You know I'd never let him touch you." 

The obsession still terrified him, because he knew that was true. It was impossible to tell what the repercussions might be if Pre thought that Vader—or anyone else—was trying to take Obi-Wan from him.

And there was a wicked, horrible part of him that wanted to see that. But it wouldn't be good for Mandalore no matter how it went down. 

"I would think the Emperor wouldn't send Vader in order to avoid an intergalactic incident."

The Emperor was far too cunning for that. In theory, so was Vader—Anakin had been clever, strategic when he bothered to plan beyond brute strength. But if he was anything like he'd once been, then his anger could push him into foolishness.

"Everything will be just fine, Ben." Pre stepped back, letting Obi-Wan don his buy'ce before escorting him into the hallway, two of the guards falling into position behind them as they moved.

Pre sat upon his throne, Obi-Wan standing beside him in a position of honor as his riduur. Around them, the court gathered, tension filling the air. Perhaps the disapproval from most of the Mandalorians would be enough to keep Vader from noticing any slips of Obi-Wan's own emotions.

He could feel the oppressive presence that was Vader in the Force moving closer, could picture him entering the system, then Mandalore's airspace, disembarking from his ship. The doors opened wide, a squad of Mandalorians entering, Vader and his own escort between them. 

Obi-Wan felt his breath catch in his chest, a shudder passing through him. Even if all went without violence or threat, it had been impossible that there would be no blows struck. Vader hadn't wasted any time in striking out, because on each side of him, without even their helmets to disguise them, walked Obi-Wan's troops.

They felt much as they had that day, when the order went out to slaughter his family and they just… changed. Like something inside of them had turned off (or on) and suddenly they weren't quite the same men they'd been. Next to the sucking Darkness of Vader's Force presence, it was almost enough to make Obi-Wan feel sick. 

He'd trusted all of the people present, had loved them, and each one had betrayed him. He was so infinitely thankful for the buy'ce he wore, for the fact that Pre had agreed to allow him to be fully covered (even if he may have had to suggest certain things about Anakin that had not been true).

For all that he'd spent the past few months in an emotional battle with himself and with Pre, he suddenly wanted nothing more than to be alone with him. To let Pre hold him, distract him, have him. Pre who had betrayed him, had allied with his enemies, but who had never hurt him, who had never truly lied about what he would or wouldn't do. 

Pre's voice echoed across the room, every inch the Mand'alor. "Welcome to Mandalore, Lord Vader."

"Mand'alor," Vader said, voice deeper than Anakin's had ever been due to the vocoder and respirator. Obi-Wan imagined some cruel Sith magic must have been used just to keep him alive; he must have been on the brink of death when Sidious finally found him. While he was shielded, there was a general feeling of pain around Vader, as if even the Force hurt to be near him. After a pause long enough to make it clear he was only continuing because it was expected, he added, "The Empire thanks you for hosting us."

"Mandalore could have no greater pleasure, during this period than continuing and strengthening the promise of peace between Mandalore and the illustrious Empire you represent." Pre stood, and Obi-Wan couldn't help but be grateful that he would have a brief respite before he was expected to join the afternoon's negotiations of terms. "You have had a long journey, please allow my men to escort you to the visitor's wing, where we've prepared food and quarters for you to use in preparation for our negotiations." 

Normally, such occasions would have been met with a welcome feast, but it had been uncertain if Vader was capable of participating. Obi-Wan couldn't say he regretted the absence now, when all he wanted was distance between himself and his former padawan.

Before Vader left, his attention strayed to Obi-Wan. The weight of his gaze was a solid feeling, especially as his presence reached out, like dark tendrils attempting to take hold of Obi-Wan. There was rage-hate-pain there, in the brief impression Obi-Wan had as he strengthened his own presence and shields, but there was also a trace of the possessiveness that had always clouded Anakin's emotions. A need to take and have. Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut, not even wanting to pretend to look at Vader, and was relieved when he felt him retreating from the room.

Obi-Wan wanted to collapse—in on himself and into Pre's arms—but the rest of Pre's court was still present and Obi-Wan couldn't show such weakness. He barely listened as Pre released them, instead he let Pre wrap an arm around him and guide him out. The position was such a familiar one, and covered in armor as he was, his familiarity with the movement allowed him to hide his momentary weakness from the others. 

"That went well enough," Pre declared as they left through a private exit near the throne. "I told you everything would be fine."

Obi-Wan stayed quiet until they reached Pre's rooms, thankful he'd thought to manipulate the day's schedule to allow for breaks. Ripping off his buy'ce, he took long, deep breaths of the fresh air—the scent of the cleaner that was used, the faint lingering of candles Pre had lit and tea he had served the night before to help Obi-Wan sleep. He didn't know if he could do this, if he could keep facing Vader, if he could negotiate with Vader as though they were simply two representatives of different states.

There was the faintest sense of alarm from Pre, before his riduur was carefully wrapping his arms around him. "Breathe, Ben. Everything's fine. Breathe Ben'ika." 

Obi-Wan clung to him, not even able to feel ashamed of how much he needed Pre in this moment, even if it was, at least in part, because of Pre that Obi-Wan was in this position at all. Pre stroked a hand through his hair, muttering comforting words in Mando'a until Obi-Wan felt himself calming, was able to separate his feelings enough to begin releasing some of them. 

"I forgot what he felt like, now. I was so caught up in our fight, in my despair, maybe I hadn't even noticed the extent of it, the last time I saw him. He feels… awful."

Like a literal wound in the Force. He shivered with it. 

Pre didn't respond immediately, perhaps uncertain what to say. "Do you need to bow out of the negotiations?" Pre finally asked, not even a hint of judgment in his tone.

"It would look bad, if I wasn't there. We would look weak." Obi-Wan buried his head in Pre's neck, closing his eyes, soaking up all the comfort he could. His former men standing there with his former Padawan flashed in his mind, all of them feeling Wrong. "We can't afford to look weak to the Empire."

Pre didn't disagree, he knew it just as well as Obi-Wan did. He just continued to hold Obi-Wan, cradling him there projecting love and calm and confidence into the Force in a clear attempt to buoy Obi-Wan back up. 

"It's only a few days," Pre reminded him. "And then we'll take a few more days off from meetings and it'll just be you and me."

"Thank you." All Obi-Wan wanted right now was those days off, alone with Pre and none of the reminders of his past. If he didn't know better, he'd say Pre had planned this, had brought Vader in to remind Obi-wan how good Pre could be to him, but he doubted he would put Mandalore at risk just for that. "I love you."

It was the first time the words had slipped past his lips since the day he'd realized what Pre had done to get him back. And he meant them. Force help him, but he did. He loved Pre. Needed Pre. He shivered at the thought, but even it was pushed away as Pre rewarded the confession with a burst of love and pleasure in the Force, pulling Obi-Wan into a slow, deep kiss.

This was the sort of emotion that Obi-Wan needed to wrap tightly around himself and keep throughout the next few days. The feeling of Pre's love, of his approval, such a stark contrast to what Vader could project. 

"We should probably get to the next meeting," he muttered, as the reminder of Vader acted as a reminder of their schedule, as well.

Pre held him tightly for a minute more before backing away. "You're right." He handed Obi-Wan his buy'ce back, but didn't let go when Obi-Wan reached for it, forcing Obi-Wan to meet his eyes, the emotion in his eyes a mix of soft and victorious. "I love you, cyare."

Obi-Wan put his buy'ce on as a means of stalling his own reaction and then, because keeping Pre in a good mood would make everything go better, he pressed his forehead against Pre's, letting the intimacy of the Mandalorian gesture sink in for just a second before pulling away. 

"Let's get this over with." 

There were guards in the hallway when they exited, the increased amount that had been there since Obi-Wan had found out the truth, but right now that was more of a comfort than an annoyance.

He and Pre reached the conference room they were using first. Obi-Wan took his normal seat at Pre's side, quickly scanning through the planned discussions for this meeting yet again. He knew each point, had helped determine the topic of discussions, how to best come at the negotiations. But it was always a good idea to refresh his memory and if it gave him an excuse to not look up immediately when the guards led Vader and his escorts in, then that was just a natural consequence. One that apparently did not pass Vader by, who was a well of simmering frustration and rage as he took the seat for the Empire's lead negotiator.

Obi-Wan was certain Vader only had the position because he was intimidating—Anakin had not been the best at negotiations, despite Obi-Wan trying his hardest to teach him what he knew. He'd not been patient enough, more often than not, and the Dark would only make the trait worse. 

He took a breath, carefully maintaining his shields, and then started to speak through the terms of the truce in the steadiest manner he could, fully in his "Negotiator" persona.

When he finished there was a long moment when the only sound was the heavy rasp of Vader's breathing. "The Emperor recognizes that the truce would do both Mandalore and the Empire well, but has deemed it fit to offer Mandalore a place of greater security as a respected state within the Empire."

Even though none of them were surprised—they'd been prepared for something like this from the start—displeasure still rippled through the Mandalorian contingent. Obi-Wan was glad he'd spent so much time with all of them teaching them the basics of shielding, as that was all that came through and not what was surely outrage and bloodlust from some. 

"While we understand the reasoning behind the Emperor's offer, Mandalore has long prided itself on its independence, and we must, respectfully, decline," Pre replied. 

His hand gripped Obi-Wan's knee under the table, but it wasn't clear if it was meant to restrain Obi-Wan or Pre himself. He let his own hand, hidden by the table, move to cover Pre's. He kept his whole focus on Vader, who it seemed was still no better at shielding then he'd been as a Jedi, though the rage-anger-pain that he had surrounded himself with would have made it difficult for almost anyone to glean anything from him. Obi-Wan, however, knew Vader far better than most and there was a sense of eagerness hidden behind the maelstrom of emotions. Their reaction had been as expected on Vader's end as his offer had been on theirs. 

"The Emperor does not often offer such benevolent terms as he is willing to extend to Mandalore. It would be foolish to decline."

Obi-Wan squeezed Pre's hand. 'He will try to upset you,' he had told the others when they were preparing, 'he will try to force us to instigate hostilities, so he can place the blame on us, can claim that he had to kill us.' So far, it seemed as though everyone was staying as calm as they could, shifting and hand clenching aside. 

"Mandalore had hoped, in light of our past truce, that the Empire would see the benefit of having us as allies still. Just as there are reasons for giving Hutt space independence, there are benefits to allowing Mandalore Sector sovereignty." Obi-Wan thought that even Anakin might not be able to tell how painful those words were for him to say, with how smooth and placid they came out.

Vader didn’t respond immediately, and some petty part of Obi-Wan wondered if he’d run out of whatever script he’d been given. “We can of course continue Truce negotiations, if Mandalore feels so strongly that they prefer to remain separate. But they may not be as favorable of terms as they could otherwise receive.”

"The Sith and Mandalorians are historical allies, a truce is a natural extension of traditions on both sides," Obi-Wan managed, glad Pre's hand was in an armored glove so he wouldn't be hurting it too badly as he clenched it tighter.

Vader paused as though considering that. “Allies.” Obi-Wan could almost picture Anakin’s face, sneering behind the implacable mask. “A strong claim from a former Jedi.”

"From one former Jedi to another," Obi-Wan replied coldly. He didn't know when Anakin turned, but he knew in those early years he was as Light as anyone. He was not as Obi-Wan had been with Death Watch. 

Pre was watching Vader, clearly disapproving, his words intense, "When someone becomes a Mandalorian, they leave their old lives—their history, their old relationships—behind. Ben is a Mandalorian."

Pre's declaration sparked a burst of rage from Vader, it took Obi-Wan a moment to realize that Vader had taken Pre's assertion to mean that Obi-Wan had left Vader behind, his relationship with Anakin, their history. Or, perhaps, that was how Pre wanted him to take it. Obi-Wan was surprised that Vader still felt entitled to Obi-Wan's regard, after everything.

"I am a Mandalorian," Obi-Wan agreed. "And Mandalore wishes to remain allied with the Empire."

It felt like Vader was glaring at them, even though that couldn't be seen. "Which is why the Emperor hasn't requested that Kenobi be returned for a trial," Vader gritted out. 

"Vizsla," Pre corrected, as soon as Vader finished speaking. “Rid’alor Vizsla.” It was a point that Obi-Wan would not have bothered arguing and was certainly going to rile Vader up more.

Obi-Wan wasn't sure if Pre was that adamant about emphasizing his claim to Obi-Wan or if he was hoping that Vader would be the one to lash out first, something that would, without a doubt, lead to bloodshed. "And I am grateful for the Emperor's mercy." The words hurt to say, but Obi-Wan would say them if it helped to calm the situation.

Vader radiated smugness, worse because they both knew Obi-Wan could feel it. If Sidious had been there, he didn't even know what he'd be doing, if he could look that man in the eyes and say these things. "The Emperor realizes that for you to have had such a close relationship with his allies, you could not have been loyal to the traitorous Jedi Order." 

Obi-Wan grimaced under his buy'ce, knowing that Vader was lying, that Sidious knew the truth, but that many probably assumed Obi-Wan had betrayed the Order before they were wiped out. Maybe even before the war.

The thought left him feeling sick. 

He had to remind himself that he knew the truth. That Master Yoda and Bail knew the truth. It might not make a difference in the grand scheme of things, he might never leave Mandalore again. But there was some level of peace knowing that others out there wouldn’t believe the lies. 

"Ben is, has always been, loyal to me." Pre didn't sound like he doubted the words at all.

Pre’s sincerity rang in the Force and since Obi-Wan was watching, he could see Vader stiffen. What must Anakin be thinking, knowing this part of Obi-Wan's past now? Did he understand how much he had messed up, believing that Obi-Wan couldn't understand that he loved Padme? That Obi-Wan wouldn't have judged him for leaving the Order? For that matter, Obi-Wan wondered how much Sidious had actually told Vader about the deal he had with Pre—did Vader know it was Sidious who sold Obi-Wan off to Pre? Was there enough of the little boy he'd been, left inside the Sith Lord to appreciate how awful such a thing was? 

"Your datapads should be updated with our initial offer, if you would like to take the time to consult them."

Vader grabbed the datapad, his grip so tight and his presence so oppressive in the Force that Obi-Wan was genuinely surprised when it didn't crack under the combined pressure. "If you would permit me use of your long distance comms, I will consult with the Emperor." He stood, black cape unfurling across the ground.

Pre nodded in permission, and Vader swept out, his storm of emotions moving with him. Obi-Wan had an almost surreal moment when he was grateful that he was not the person that Vader was about to go complain to.

With the Imperials out of the room, the Mandalorians could finally drop out of the unnatural stillness they'd been maintaining. Complaints flew back and forth, at the audacity of Vader and the Emperor, at how rude he was to the rid'alor. 

Pre leaned his head against Obi-Wan's, their buy'ce bumping softly. "You did well, Ben'ika. Just a few more days."

"He's going to be sullen and in a temper." 

How had his life come to this, where he was once again putting up with Anakin's temperamental moods, though even worse for the added likelihood of violence? Still, Obi-Wan trusted that, when it came down to it, he could still talk circles around Vader if it was necessary. Vader might have been sent because he was intimidating, might have been sent because his presence would hurt Obi-Wan, but if the Empire had truly hoped to force Obi-Wan and Mandalore into submitting, then sending Vader had been a mistake.

"If anyone was still wondering if he was your ad, I think this is proving that he couldn't have been," Pre's voice was a little louder, so that those around them could hear the declaration, a playful note in his voice. "I wouldn't believe any child of yours would be so bad at negotiations."

Several Mandalorians laughed; even those that didn't laugh, seemed to be in general agreement. Vader was intimidating, yes, but it took more than an intimidation factor to impress Mandalorians. 

"If we ever adopt, I'll make sure they're at the very least adequate." Pre froze at the words, staring at Obi-Wan; Obi-Wan could sense his shock. "Not that I'm in any hurry for that," Obi-Wan hurried to add.

Pre's shock gave way to pleasure, tinged with what Obi-Wan decided might be hope. "Once the Empire has settled and we can predict them more, we could look into it." 

There was corresponding fondness from the people closest to them, who were most likely looking forward to the prospect of their Mand'alor raising warriors. Obi-Wan didn't know when he'd actually be ready to raise another child, but… a child of his own was different than a Padawan. And he was no longer a Jedi, he could allow himself to be attached, to make that child his entire world, if he wanted.


	6. Chapter 6

Even before the Imperial representatives came, Obi-Wan had had a contingent of guards following him outside of their personal rooms. There were many threats to him, internally and externally, aside from Pre's continued paranoia that Obi-Wan would run if given half a chance. 

When Obi-Wan stepped into a room and realized that none of the guards had followed, he immediately tensed. That wasn't normal and, as there were no sounds of fighting or alarms going off, it was almost certainly Force-caused. 

Vader stepped out of a side door, stalking directly to him, and Obi-Wan knew this event had been manufactured somehow to create just this moment. Their first meeting alone since Mustafar.

“I hope you didn’t hurt them.” Obi-Wan kept his voice level and casual, reinforcing his mental shields to ensure that Vader couldn’t get so much of a hint of the tumultuous emotions that were whirling through him at them being alone. “Surely you know that would be a diplomatic nightmare.” He was not surprised that the appearance of a casualness increased Vader’s ever present rage.

"Perfect Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi, secretly in bed with Death Watch this entire time," Vader sneered, stopping just feet away from him. The accusation hurt, but also confirmed that the Emperor hadn't told Vader about the deal, had let him assume what everything seemed like on the surface.

“Is that what Sidious told you?” Obi-Wan asked. “He must be quite the remarkable storyteller. I’d be so very interested in hearing his version of mine and Pre’s story.” He smiled at Anakin, and if it was sharp and angry... well, Obi-Wan thought he might be allowed that much. “I loved Pre and I love Pre, that much you can believe your new Master about.”

"You're attached to him! All that time you were paying lip service to the code, making me feel like I could never be good enough, and you were in love with the enemy!" Vader seethed, his presence a roiling storm of Darkness filling up the space in the room. Obi-Wan thought even a Force null would be able to feel it, that they'd feel cold, scared, even if they didn't know why.

He wrapped the Force around him, a shield and a shelter against Vader. A more metaphysical armor to accompany his beskar’gam. “I left Pre behind, once. If I hadn’t you would have never known me at all. But I’m not a Jedi anymore. You and your Emperor made sure of that. Maybe I am attached, and if so, who is there left to care? What duty could my love for him possibly take me from?”

"You cut me down and left me to burn to death! You have a duty to me, for what you've caused. To the Empire, for the chaos that your Jedi Council sowed." 

Possessiveness shifted through Vader's presence as it attempted to engulf the shell of Light that Obi-Wan had built up. It wasn't just revenge Vader wanted, it wasn't just to make Obi-Wan as miserable as he was. With Sidious as his Sith Master, Obi-Wan might be the only thing close to a friend, someone that had actually cared about him, left in the world.

The brief brush of pity he felt wasn’t enough to stop his own anger from sparking, pushed on by the darkness surrounding him. He let it go, careful, knowing that Vader's presence would exacerbate things beyond control if he let it. 

"By your own measurement, what of your duty to me?" he asked. "Or do you continue to exist in a world where you imagine that you are the only thing of importance in my life? That my life is nothing without you in it?"

"You spent a decade of your life never even hinting at Vizsla," Vader spat out Pre's clan name like it was a curse. "A decade with me. As my Master. The Order is gone and you go running back here like you can recapture your youth, but this isn't who or what you are anymore!"

"The way you never spoke of Padme?" Padme's name was enough to freeze Vader, though likely only because Vader hadn't suspected Obi-Wan had the audacity to mention her. "I told you that I'd loved before. Told you that such things were natural. You had no desire to continue the discussion and I respected that. Who wants to know the sordid details of their Master's past? But frankly, Anakin, you've never cared to know me well enough to know who or what I am."

"And he can know you? He doesn't even have the Force!" For all Vader was a tall and intimidating Sith Lord of extreme power, he was also a young man in his early twenties, and Obi-Wan could swear he heard a familiar whine in his voice. "My Master will be lenient with you, Obi-Wan, if you return willingly."

Obi-Wan couldn’t quite stop the laugh, a derisive tinge to it, from escaping. “That would put your Master in quite the awkward position when he was the one who promised Pre he could have me.”

Vader didn't move, the hiss of his respirator the only noise in the room for a moment. And then, deep and horrible, accompanied with a cold burning rage, "You lie."

Ah, denial. Anakin had always been particularly talented at that. Refused to acknowledge that reality didn’t bend to his own expectations of it. “Why would I bother?” He shook his head. “Surely you didn’t think Sidious was letting me live out of the kindness of his heart? Surely even you have realized that there is no kindness in that man.” Vader stayed quiet and Obi-Wan shrugged. "He sold me to Pre for Death Watch's assistance against the Republic." 

Each word seemed to raise Vader's ire, his hands clenching at his sides, the Force lashing out around him. Somewhere, there was the creaking of metal, like something was bending or twisting.

Obi-Wan edged backward, preparing himself for that increasing tension to break and for Vader to lash out at him. "I'll kill him." Obi-Wan froze in alarm. "Mandalore is nothing compared to the Empire. Together we can crush them, crush _him_." His voice adopted an edge of plaintiveness to it that Obi-Wan hadn't thought the vocoder would allow. "I can save you."

He'd hoped that Vader might see that Sidious was the problem, but he should have known better. Vader's relationship with Sidious had been stronger even than Anakin and his own relationship, one he thought had been a very close one until the end. 

"Save me and deliver me to your Sith Master to be sold again when the mood strikes him? Maybe a Hutt would like a Jedi pet they didn't have to hide from the Emperor. Or maybe one of Sidious' other allies. Perhaps he'll keep me for himself, get to indulge in whatever Sithly appetites he had to hide during his time as Chancellor." Obi-Wan knew he was being cruel, which was highly inappropriate for a Jedi but perfectly reasonable for a Mandalorian in his position.

“He wouldn’t do that,” Vader snapped. “Not if he was giving you to me.” 

Obi-Wan stared at Vader, shocked and repulsed. Did he not hear himself?

"I doubt he wouldn't take anything he wanted from you whenever he wanted, Anakin," Obi-Wan snapped back, ignoring the implications for his own peace of mind. Vader stalked forward again, closing that slight gap between them, but Obi-Wan refused to retreat. Vader would take that as a sign he was winning, as Anakin would have. "He wouldn't care about your ownership of me."

There was the slightest hint of reaction to that, as though Anakin had finally recognized the implications, but then he pushed right past them. "I would be protecting you. Not—" He shook his head. "Not whatever this thing with Vizsla is. And I wouldn't let him take you."

"Oh? How would you stop him? He's a Sith Lord and sole ruler of what used to be the Republic." A thought occurred to Obi-Wan, a horrible thought. He tilted his head to the side, allowing his own presence in the Force to brush against Vader, just the slightest amount, a reminder of when they didn't used to be enemies. "I'm safe here, I'm not safe there. Not unless you can consolidate power under Sidious' nose, find a way to take it all from him."

"Mandalore isn't as safe as you think it is." Vader sounded almost entreating. "But if the Emperor was busy with Mandalore, distracted, then perhaps..." He let off there, the implication obvious.

Obi-Wan hid the cold wash of fear. Was the Empire planning on attacking or was Sidious being more subtle? There were still internal enemies that Pre had to deal with, not least of all the remaining New Mandalorians. It wouldn't be difficult to destabilize them with Sidious' resources. 

"There are better enemies than Mandalore to make. You would truly wish to see this sector burn when the Hutts remain free to do as they please?"

Vader hesitated. “The Emperor has promised me Hutt Space to do with as I will. Once I’ve proven myself.”

"Ah, of course. And we both know what that means, don't we? That he can deny you for as long as he wants, forever, because he's given you such an ambiguous requirement." Obi-Wan had been criticized enough about that himself.

“The Emperor respects my power! Respects me!” Obi-Wan felt a moment of pity for his former Padawan, wondering if he’d truly managed to convince himself of that. “I could raze Hutt Space to the ground if I wanted.”

"The Emperor used you, Anakin," he replied, gently, sure regardless of when Anakin had fallen that he was speaking the truth. "Like he used all of us. It's why I can't risk returning, even if Coruscant has been my home since I was a baby. I know Pre, I know what he wants from me, and it's not to hurt me."

For a long moment the only sound was the rasp and hiss of Vader’s breath. “You’d rather let him own you, control you, than join me. Than trust me.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes behind his visor. He knew Vader couldn't understand and yet he was still so frustrating. "Than be owned, than be controlled, by Sidious? Yes. Pre wants me to be his spouse and what goes along with that. Sidious would want me to not just be his slave, but be shown to be his slave. To be humiliated. Be demeaned. A Jedi traitor to be tormented at his leisure."

He wanted that to be enough. Wanted Vader to manage enough empathy to understand something that shouldn’t have even needed to be pointed out. He couldn’t help but feel he’d failed. 

“You have to understand,” he added, a last ditch attempt, to spell it out in words that Vader had to be capable of understanding, if empathy was too beyond him. “Pre is my Padme, or I’m his Padme. Whichever way that metaphor works best for you.”

"I loved Padme, I didn't own her! I didn't trap her!" Vader growled, once more missing Obi-Wan's point entirely. "If she were still alive, she would have the life she deserves! The power to make the changes she always wanted to make!"

If Vader hadn't killed her. The words hung at the tip of his tongue; the desire to remind Vader of just why Padme was no longer alive. He held them back. That, he suspected might just push Vader across a line. There were too many people who would get caught in that crossfire, and it wasn't worth it. 

"Pre's giving me what I need."

"Sex slavery." Vader's accusation rippled across them, his mind trying to dig into the scar where their training bond had once been, as if seeing into Obi-Wan's own thoughts could solve anything. "He'll die, Obi-Wan," Vader said, voice dropped low, "Mandalore will burn. And you'll come crawling back to me."

The threat—the promise—hit like a blade to the gut. "I've already lost the Jedi. If I lose Mandalore, if I lose Pre, there won't be enough of me left to crawl back to you."

Vader made an inarticulate sound of rage, stomping away, back towards the side door that he'd entered from—Obi-Wan made a note to have security check that area. "You'll see. I'll fix everything."

He didn’t move, waiting until Vader’s presence was far enough away that he could hunch in on himself, trying to breathe through the wave of fear and anxiety that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in Vader’s presence. 

It was only once he’d finally pulled himself back together, he realized that Vader had created the situation Obi-Wan had been searching for for months. No guards, no Pre, no one watching him. He could escape easily. 

But then Pre would assume that it was Vader who had taken him, and Obi-Wan didn’t want to be responsible for the deaths that would follow Pre’s reaction to that.

He turned back to the door he'd originally entered from. His guards were all slumped against the ground, and he was grateful to sense that they were still alive, just forcefully unconscious. He moved to the first one to try and rouse them, mind racing with everything that Vader had said, trying to determine just when Vader would try to make good on his threat.

When his guards started to regain consciousness, he couldn't stop some from sending out an alert to other guards and Pre, and it wasn't long until Pre was there, blaster in one hand and Darksaber in another. 

"Are you alright, cyare?" he gathered Obi-Wan in his arms after it was clear no one else there and he could put away his weapons.

Obi-Wan let Pre hold him. "Vader just had a few words to say to me. It's fine." 

He looked up at Pre, a quiet plea that Pre not ask further questions right now. When they were alone he would tell Pre more, about what Vader had wanted, about Vader's threat, but it would not be wise to broadcast any of that where anyone might hear and do something rash.

Pre guided him back to their rooms, guards spread around them and entering hallways before them, taking no risks. Until they were finally alone, only their most trusted guards (and ones that had trained with Obi-Wan to protect their minds from Force users) outside. 

"What did he want? Are you truly okay?" Pre asked as soon as the door had shut behind them, pulling off his own buy'ce and reaching to take off Obi-Wan's.

"He wanted a chance to accuse me of hypocrisy." He sighed, measuring his words carefully. "He wanted me to return with him to Coruscant, he was..." he hesitated, for all that their relationship had been filled with tension since Obi-Wan had learned about the deal Pre had struck with Sidious, they hadn't actually spoken of it since that first day. He cleared his throat. "Vader was unaware that my pardon and everything that went with it was part of a deal that Sidious and you had made. He was quite unhappy to discover that was the case. He threatened to kill you, to burn Mandalore down so I would have no other option but him."

Pre scoffed. "He's a fool if he thinks it would be so easy." He pulled Obi-Wan into his arms, holding him tight, whether to comfort him or reassert that he was still there, Obi-Wan wasn't sure. "I'll never let him take you from me, Obi-Wan. I'll keep you here, safe."

"You can't underestimate him, Pre. Too many people have died because they underestimated Anakin, and he's so much more dangerous now." He buried his face in Pre's neck, whispering the words against Pre's skin. "I can't lose you, Pre."

Pre gripped him with one hand against his back, the other carding through his hair. "You won't, you won't lose me. We'll handle this. Barely anyone knows him better than you, you'll know his tricks, his tells. Just because he's a Sith now, that hasn't changed much about him from what you've told me." He took a deep breath, Obi-Wan feeling his reluctance before he continued, "And we know he wants you, it's doubtful he'll allow any serious attacks without having you in his grasp. We'll have warning."

Obi-Wan nodded, trying to use that logic to ease his fears. He'd been afraid before, of course he had. But the fear seemed to have lodged itself deep in his soul, impossible to release. How many times could he lose everything and keep going? 

"How much time do we have before our next meeting?"

Pre smoothed his hand down, over Obi-Wan's cheek and under his chin, tipping his face up and kissing him gently. "He chose his time to go after you well, he left himself plenty of time." He kissed him again. "We have only one meeting left, at the end of the day, the discussion of trade routes."

Obi-Wan felt himself relax at that. "I should put together a few security plans, some preventative measures that will give us an early heads up if Vader does try anything during these negotiations." 

He didn't want to. He just wanted to curl up with Pre. Just wanted to... let Pre have him in ways he hadn't since their fight. Just wanted to forget Vader, forget the Empire, forget all of the ways everything was wrong.

"I have people on it," Pre assured him, "you can go over the plans later." The hand on Obi-Wan's back moved downward, pushing their hips together, Pre's need for him—to reassert his possession of him, Obi-Wan knew in some way, though he didn't even mind at the moment—brought out Obi-Wan's own desire. "Let me help you relax, Ben'ika."

Obi-Wan let out a soft sigh, and there was so little resistance left in him, that it didn’t even feel like giving ing when he tilted his head back so that Pre could kiss him. "Yes, please." He moved his hands to the latches of Pre's armor, using the Force where he could to help the process go faster. "Please, Pre. I... I need you. Want you."

"You can always have me, cyare, whenever you want," Pre promised, clearly very pleased with him. He pulled off what parts of Obi-Wan's armor he could reach, setting them aside with more care than his building desire seemed to allow for, his Mandalorian upbringing still showing through. They kissed, Obi-Wan swooning under it. "I love you, Ben'ika." His hands were everywhere, his mouth sucking bruises into Obi-Wan's neck. "You're mine, you've always been mine."

He nodded. "Yes. Yes. Yours. Always." He did his best to focus on the moment, on the need and want he felt. Pre wasn't Force Sensitive, it didn't work the same way it did when Pre pushed his emotions at Obi-Wan, but he still did his best to surround Pre with his want, his need, his love, so that Pre knew, without a doubt how Obi-Wan felt.

Pre was unrelenting, as if everything he'd been holding back since Obi-Wan had found out about his deal was coming to the forefront, broken free. He didn't hold back his possessiveness, his fervent, nearly overwhelming, desire. This, Obi-Wan realized, was what he'd been keeping locked away, knowing it would be too intense for Obi-Wan even at the start.

Right now it was exactly what he needed, the promises imprinted into his skin with Pre's fingers digging into him, with the bites and marks left behind on his neck and collar bones. The passion and possessiveness leaving marks on his soul. Obi-Wan could let go completely, trust that Pre had him.


	7. Chapter 7

Vader was under observation on the other side of the city, so Obi-Wan's guards had thinned out. It was only Vader they were truly worried about, the troopers with Vader treated as little more than window dressing. Obi-Wan supposed, given that, he shouldn't have been surprised to stumble upon a few of the clones he had once known. That his traitorous heart still cared for, no matter what he had witnessed himself and seen on recordings.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, grateful once again for the armor that he wore, a protection in so many more ways than the purely physical. It was difficult to tell if his guards had noted the momentary flair of distress as Obi-Wan continued past the clones. There was a part of him that wanted to speak to them, to ask them why, to ask them if they'd always intended to turn, if they'd even hesitated when they'd gotten the orders. He'd fought beside these men for three years, and yet Palpatine had declared him traitor and that had been enough. He wanted to know if they'd... if they'd cared, at all. Or if his care for them had been one sided. He was nearly past them when one of them shifted, moving closer to him. Cody.

"Rid'alor Vizsla," Cody greeted, with formality but something Obi-Wan might be fooling himself into believing was familiarity. He didn't feel entirely right in the Force, still, but he didn't feel like a stranger. Obi-Wan would have so preferred it if he'd felt like a stranger.

His guards stiffened around him; Obi-Wan sent them a quick hand signal to assure them there was no problem. "Commander Cody," by some miracle his voice managed to come out perfectly even. "I hope you and your vod’e have been enjoying your time on Mandalore."

"We have, rid'alor, we thank you for your hospitality." Empty words, still, polite nothings. But then something changed in Cody's mood, just the softest shift. "I wanted to apologize, sir. We had not realized that you were allied to the Emperor and had thought you were a traitor like the other Jedi."

His guards relaxed minutely, and Obi-Wan remembered that everyone but Obi-Wan saw Obi-Wan as some sort of exception amongst the Jedi, not truly a part of them. His guards might not trust Cody and the others still, but they could understand the wholesale killing of the Jedi. Obi-Wan had to fight not to react at the reminder, feeling sick to his stomach. 

"I see." He struggled to try and find more words. He couldn't just grant them his forgiveness, not when his people were dead and the hands of them and the rest of the army. But nor could he start an argument. He almost wished that Pre was here, to see first hand that the Emperor had done nothing to ensure Obi-Wan's life, though he knew it would hardly change Pre's mind. So long as Pre had him, he didn’t much care how it had happened. "It's fortunate then, that you rather failed to kill me."

Cody's lips twitched, a weak attempt at a smile. "I shouldn't have ever thought you'd betray us, sir." Sadness wafted off of him. "If I had known, you could still be at home, instead of stuck here."

It was Obi-Wan’s turn to force a smile. "I'm hardly stuck here." He paused as he remembered that technically Palpatine's pardon had been contingent on Obi-Wan remaining in Mandalore Space, and he was stuck here if he didn’t want to be killed. "Or at least not unhappily so." His smile faded, and he hesitantly prodded. "I don't know what I did that made my betrayal seem so believable a tale, but I'm sure you had your reasons?"

Something flickered across Cody's face—confusion?—before his expression settled again. "We'd been prepared for a betrayal by the Jedi, sir. When we were told it had happened, we weren't supposed to allow any to escape. You know what the Jedi were like, even a few dozen on the run are dangerous."

Prepared for their betrayal. Three years, fighting side by side. Patching each other up after injuries. Leaning against each other after a battle. Complaining together over tall stacks of paperwork. Laughing with each other at the antics of the men within the battalion. All that time, Obi-Wan had thought their friendship to be real, had thought he felt those emotions reciprocated. Yet it seemed like Cody had simply been waiting for a betrayal.

It was not hard to think of who just might have prepared the army for the ‘Jedi betrayal’, they’d been trained by Jango Fett of all people. How short-sighted and foolish they’d been. Palpatine had had everything perfectly set up. 

He couldn’t quite stop the bitterness from coating his words, it was better than letting anyone see the grief he still hadn’t been able to let go. “I’m quite certain between your efforts and the Emperor the Jedi are quite gone.”

Cody grimaced, before hiding the reaction. "You'd think that, sir, but regretfully some of the real Jedi escaped. Lord Vader has been tasked with some hunts for them and we're likely to continue after this." He spoke as though he'd forgotten that Obi-Wan wasn't in the same military as he was, like he didn't have to keep secrets

Obi-Wan froze. More Jedi. Alive and in hiding. The burst of hope hit him like a jump into hyperspace, a mix of elation and dizziness, but then it was crushed, and all he could feel was a well of self-hatred. His people were being hunted down again while he was safe and cared for, allied with their killers. 

“I hadn’t realized.” The words came out choked. He forced his tone back to normal, trying to display nothing more than casual curiosity, though he couldn’t imagine anyone would truly believe it. “The Emperor must see that as a threat. Does he have an estimate for how many have evaded capture and death?”

"There's a few lists of those who weren't confirmed dead. We've also been looking into some people who left the Order before Order 66, as many still have traitorous notions." Cody’s hand jerked, as if he had automatically started to reach out to comfort Obi-Wan. "Don't worry, sir, it's doubtful any of them will be able to accomplish much before Lord Vader finds them. And you're safe here, no Jedi would be foolish enough to come to Mandalore.”

The worst part was how likely that was to be true. Vader had always been relentless, especially when angry. The Emperor had publicly pardoned Obi-Wan, which would only convince others of his culpability. Those who might still believe in him would be foolish to risk entering a Mandalore ruled by Death Watch. There was a part of him that wanted to find a way to bring them here regardless, but while he could trust Pre to protect him he couldn’t even begin to guess how he would react to another Jedi.

That was a lie. Pre hated the Jedi, perhaps even more now than he had when they were younger, for that decade where the Jedi had ‘stolen’ Obi-Wan from him.

He forced himself to smile at Cody, his second in command that still seemed to care for Obi-Wan, even if everything felt twisted just a little wrong. “Thank you for telling me, Cody.” He swallowed, before tentatively reaching out a hand to Cody’s arm. “I have missed you.”

Cody seemed to melt in the Force at his words, the stiffness in his body loosening. "I've, we've, missed you, too." He placed his hand over Obi-Wan's, dropping his voice to a whisper, "I know Lord Vader must have made this clear, but just say the word and we'll be ready to get you out of here."

He felt a thrill of foreboding at the promise, so painfully sincere while so bitterly non-comprehending of the danger he’d be in under their ‘protection’. “You don’t need to worry about that. I love Pre.” He gestured with one hand at his armor, hoping that it showed that he was truly Mandalorian now, that there was no going back from this. “He’s even gotten me into armor; you were always complaining about my lack of proper protective wear.”

Tilting his head to the side, Cody seemed to consider that. "You're right, sir. I suppose we should be thankful that he's shown you how much better it is to wear armor. But you can keep wearing it wherever you are, you know."

He couldn’t help a flash of irritation at that. He was starting to wonder if anyone actually listened to him when he spoke, for all that so many of them didn’t seem to hear a word of what he said. He made his words a little firmer this time, no hiding under implications and ambiguity. “I couldn’t imagine leaving, I have purpose here on Mandalore. I’m happy.” Or he could be. Would be? It was close enough to the truth that it didn’t matter.

The look Cody gave was skeptical and in the Force he felt… jealous, Obi-Wan realized. Not in the way that Anakin did—possessiveness and a belief he had a right to Obi-Wan—but in a more subdued manner. He'd wondered, at times, just what Cody had felt for him, but hadn't examined it too closely out of a desire to honor his privacy. His heart ached at it, but it was not an affection he could return. 

"Of course, sir."

“If you or your vod’e ever retire—“ if Sidious would ever allow such a thing, and his words felt useless in the face of that. “—I would speak to the Mand'alor to see if there could be a place for you here.” 

There were so many reasons even the offer was a bad idea. Cody had tried to kill him. His vod’e had killed countless Jedi. There was no way to ensure that Cody’s loyalty, or that of his vod’e, would ever truly be to Mandalore rather than Sidious. But the words had slipped out and there was a part of him—the part that had sworn he’d help Cody find freedom once the war was over—that couldn’t bring himself to regret the offer.

Cody blinked and there was another moment of wavering in the Force from him before he settled. Obi-Wan wished he had the resources to find out more—nothing about what had happened made sense, if anything, things made less sense now than before—to know what really happened that day and why the troopers felt so very faintly wrong in the Force, why they felt as though they’d been knocked just a few degrees off. 

"Thank you, sir. I'll… make sure to spread the word. It's been interesting to finally see Mandalore."

“I’m glad you could.” He smiled again, feeling exhausted deep in his soul. Perhaps he’d never know the truth, but he had to continue on with what knowledge he did have. “And I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay.” He stepped back, away from Cody. “I need to find my riduur before our next meeting. So you’ll have to excuse me.”

"Of course, sir." 

Obi-Wan felt Cody's regret clinging to him as he walked away, forcing him to recall too many memories of never wanting to voluntarily be away from Cody. That was his old life, he couldn't dwell on impossibilities.

He hoped the guards hadn’t reported too much of that conversation to Pre. While he wouldn’t keep it from Pre, he also knew it would be better coming from Obi-Wan while he was there to assure Pre that Obi-Wan had and would choose Pre.

Whatever he'd been told, Pre started out vague, "I heard you had an encounter with one of those clones, earlier."

“I did. Commander Cody. He’d been my second during the war.” The look Pre gave him made it clear that Pre knew just who Cody had been; Obi-Wan ignored the reminder that Pre had been watching him for years, it was better for his sanity that way. “Vader had been giving them the impression I wasn’t here of my own free will and needed saving. I was rectifying the miscommunication.”

Pre cursed. "The Emperor's attack strill should learn his place and stop interfering in the lives of his betters." He wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan, the familiar need of Pre's to reassert that Obi-Wan was there, with him, almost comforting. "I wish you didn't have to deal with all these fools, cyare."

“Cody was just concerned.” Obi-Wan leaned back into Pre, emphasizing his place in Pre’s arms. “I don’t think it will become a problem, or not any more of a problem than Vader.”

From the frown he received, Obi-Wan could tell he still didn't like that it had happened. "That was very bold of the clone, considering what they did."

It was something that had crossed Obi-Wan’s mind more than once, along with all those questions he’d never truly have answered. “He apologized for that. Said they’d been prepared for the inevitability of the Jedi going traitor.” He shook his head, there were so many things he needed to understand, but no way to do it. “It’s not important. I’m here, safe with you. It’s all worked out so much as anything can be worked out in these situations.” He would keep telling himself that, force it in until he believed it.

"I'll have our people keep an eye on them, just in case." 

Pre moved them to the bed, not making any move to do anything more than just cuddle him close; he was always so good at knowing exactly what Obi-Wan needed.

That had to be enough.


	8. Chapter 8

Obi-Wan woke up, already halfway out of bed and his lightsaber flying from the armor rack to his outstretched hand. He froze, finger on the ignition. It took a few moments to think past the half asleep instinct that had pulled him awake: Vader, vicious anger and fierce satisfaction, and in the Mandalore Sector, just entering their system, an act that—unless under specific situations—broke their treaty. Obi-Wan couldn’t think of a single good reason why Vader might suddenly, and without warning, be entering Mandalore space. And he couldn’t be sure whether Vader had a legitimate reason or if Mandalore was about to be attacked. 

“Ben?” Pre’s voice was a half asleep murmur, though Obi-Wan could feel him trying to shed the sleep from his mind. “What’s wrong?”

"Vader, he's coming our way," Obi-Wan answered quickly, already moving to grab fresh clothing. 

It didn't take long for Pre to wake up, battle-honed instincts having faded slightly since everything had more or less been settled in the sector, but not by much. He dressed and put out comms to the relevant people while Obi-Wan looked to the Force, trying to figure out what was going on. There was no sense of focused danger to Obi-Wan, which implied it wasn't an attack, but he couldn't help getting a bad feeling.

“Have someone hail Vader’s ship, request an explanation for breaking the treaty.” It would let Vader know they were aware of his presence, but with the way he wasn’t bothering to shield, letting anyone with even the slightest bit of Force Sensitivity feel him, he probably already knew. 

He paused, realizing that he probably shouldn’t be giving Pre orders. Pre didn’t take any offense, luckily. Just adding another comm call to his list.

Obi-Wan wasn't expecting his own comm to light up, not when everyone would expect him to be with Pre, but halfway to their ready room it did. It was the captain of the palace guard, looking incredibly put-out. "Rid'alor, there is someone here insisting on seeing you." 

It couldn't be Vader, he was still too far away, and wouldn't need the guards to be the one to announce his presence. He looked over to Pre, who was still immersed in his own calls. "Who? What is this about?" It was too big of a coincidence to not be related, somehow.

The captain’s face twisted in disgust. “It’s a jetii, rid’alor.” Obi-Wan stopped in his tracks, his heart catching in his throat. A Jedi here on Mandalore and Vader on his way. “They’ve come to beg you and the Mand’alor for sanctuary.”

Pre had looked up at that word "jetii" and was paying attention now, the person on his own comm silent at the Mand'alor's gesture. Sanctuary for Jedi was not something they'd ever officially discussed, though a part of Obi-Wan had always hoped some would appear to them, and had even set up a few contacts among the more Jedi-friendly New Mandalorians that remained for just such an occasion. But he'd imagined them coming under the cover of night, hiding away so no one knew until they revealed themselves at some side door to the palace. This—running from Vader and leading him straight to them—was something else entirely. 

"Have them brought to the throne room," he directed, already feeling sick, "make sure to get them to turn over their lightsaber, first, say it's standard procedure for outsiders with weapons."

Obi-Wan ended the comm call, feeling his hand shaking a little. Pre murmured something to his own comm, before cutting it off as he stepped closer to where Obi-Wan still stood frozen. 

“Ben,” his voice was soft and attempting to be comforting. “Can you handle this?”

"There's a Jedi casually announcing themselves at our door and Vader feeling like he's going to a Lifeday party heading towards us, I don't have the option not to handle it," Obi-Wan stated, already working on compartmentalizing as much as he could.

Pre acknowledged that. “What do you need from me, to help you get through what needs to be done.” His lips pressed together in disgust. “We know Vader will be looking for weakness, in you and between the two of us.”

He nodded. "We need to show a united front. And...Force, as much as I dislike the idea...we have to honor our treaty with the Empire. And I do not want to hand anyone over to Vader, let alone a Jedi." Which meant the other option, instead of giving over a Jedi as a prisoner...they could execute them.

Pre stared at him, clearly coming to the same conclusion. “I won’t make you do it, Ben. I’ll make it quick and painless.” He sighed, and he sounded almost regretful. “But you know we’ll have to wait until Vader arrives, anything other than it happening in front of him and he’ll do his best to twist it so that we broke the treaty.”

Obi-Wan shivered, but nodded in acknowledgement. He'd claim they faked the death. "The last time he was here, we were still new to ruling, and it was a negotiation. It made sense that I often took the lead." He stepped closer, Pre automatically enveloping him in an embrace. “But even if it makes me look... submissive, or whatever they might think, I'd prefer to not have to do much talking, this time." He wasn't sure he could get away with keeping his buy'ce on, not with this, but he knew he could keep a calm face.

Pre nodded his agreement, arms tightening around Obi-Wan’s waist. “I may be cruel, but I’m not so cruel that I’d make you orchestrate and declare the death of one your former people,” he murmured, though Obi-Wan knew there was a time Pre would have delighted in just that situation. “I know you’d rather not even stand at my side for this.” Not that Obi-Wan had any choice but to.

"For anything else, everything else, I want to be nowhere more than at your side," Obi-Wan made sure to clarify, keeping Pre in a decent mood would help with whatever else was going to happen tonight. 

He reluctantly pulled away when his comm chimed, an alert saying the Jedi had been brought inside. In the Force, Vader had grown even closer, and would no doubt be landing shortly. 

"This is such a mess. I don't understand why they would come here like this."

Pre frowned. “It was very poorly thought out, they must be absolutely desperate; there’s no other reason that I could fathom them believing that this would end well for them.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “One Jedi’s life isn’t worth breaking a treaty with the Empire.”

He almost asked if his was, but he knew he didn't count. He wasn't a Jedi anymore. "Maybe it's a plot to test us? Palpatine might be bored and hoping we react badly."

Pre cupped his cheek carefully. “They know I have no problem killing Jedi. They’ll be watching you, watching to see if you’ve ‘influenced’ me. I can’t just be your riduur, for this. Though I am, and always will be. But tonight I must be your Mand’alor as well.”

"And I am your rid'alor. In this, I'll be obedient. I'll follow your lead." Obi-Wan leaned into the touch, taking strength from the steady love that Pre was projecting. "They'll see that it's you who has influenced me." The story went that he'd been a Death Watch spy within the Order already, that was what he'd have to play—even if it meant lying to a Jedi.

Pre nodded, moving forward and giving Obi-Wan a quick, soft kiss. “I love you, Ben. You’ve always been so good.” He stepped back. “But the Jedi is waiting and Vader must be close.”

"He is.” Vader, like Anakin, had always plunged straight ahead, when it was something he wanted, heedless of anything else. “We need to be ready when he comes charging in." 

Obi-Wan collected himself and started to the throne room at Pre's side, relieved to see a multitude of Death Watch commandos in attendance, despite the hour. If something went wrong with a Jedi, they'd be capable of surviving. Pre strode to his throne and sat, regal and severe looking, Obi-Wan taking his position standing beside him, face cold. 

Then the guards were dragging in the Jedi and Obi-Wan felt guilty for the relief that it wasn't Quinlan, or Caleb, or any of the others he'd known and seen on the bounty lists. He had been on the Council, but only during wartime, and there had been many Jedi he'd never known, despite their small numbers.

Pre tilted his head, staring down at the Jedi as though he was a vaguely interesting specimen of bug. “The Captain of the Guard has informed me that you’ve come begging for sanctuary. Who are you, to ask that of Mandalore?”

The Jedi seemed to know that something wasn't right about their plan, they were starting to leak nervousness through their shields. They looked at Obi-Wan and it was him they addressed, a mistake that might have sealed their fate if it wasn't already decided. "Master Kenobi, please, I've been running since the clones started to slaughter us, I can't keep going," they begged.

Obi-Wan swallowed past the lump in his throat, pushing past the heavy sensation that he was the true traitor. He kept his voice even as he responded, “The Mand’alor has requested your name.”

If the Jedi had been planning on answering Pre, or saying something else entirely, Obi-Wan would never find out—at that moment, Vader landed on the planet, and both he and the Jedi stumbled at the Dark power of his presence. There was no attempt to shield it, if anything Obi-Wan thought Vader must be projecting it, that even the non-Force Sensitives near him must be feeling something. He looked at Pre, who was already motioning to some of the guards in preparation.

The Jedi was grabbed and pulled forcibly closer to Pre’s throne—further from the door where Vader would enter. It was impossible for Obi-Wan to miss the terror in the man’s wide, bloodshot eyes, the way his own Force presence was streaked with fear and despair. It was more instinct than anything when he wrapped a tendril of the Force around the man’s presence, not so close that he was touching, that his presence would be automatically noticed, but strong enough that the man’s senses were sheltered from the abrasive, oppressing presence of Vader. The man was already going to die, Obi-Wan could do this small thing to make that death a little less painful and terrible.

Vader entered into the throne room of the Mand'alor with an insulting lack of decorum. Even those there who were eager to see a Jedi hurt were bristling. Behind him were troopers, a mix of 212th and 501st this time, but Obi-Wan let his eyes pass over them, not needing any other reasons to be upset. 

"Vader," Pre pointedly didn't use his title, "it's customary to announce when one is entering someone else's territory. Hasn't your Emperor given you any lessons on diplomacy?" He was acting just the right amount of hostile, Obi-Wan realized, to not look like they were hiding anything.

“A Jedi traitor entered Mandalorian space, I was within the parameters of our treaty.” Vader’s unfettered glee was vicious, lashing out at both Obi-Wan and the Jedi in clearly purposeful barbs.

"You are allowed to enter after whatever jetiise invade Mandalore, that does not give you free rein. In the future, you will inform us when you come here." He gestured to the Jedi, held tight by the guards. "If this fool hadn't come straight to us, they might have slipped away and you could be spending months searching for them."

Vader turned his helmet to stare at the Jedi. “There was nowhere he would have been able to hide from me.” 

The Jedi was terrified, staring at Obi-Wan, a pleading look in his eyes. Obi-Wan looked away, struggling with the guilt and frustration. If the man had come to him in almost any other way, if he had had given Obi-Wan even a modicum of plausible deniability, then he would have been able to help the man. But now he had to let the man die or risk the entirety of Mandalore’s safety. And more, this almost certainly removed the likelihood of any other Jedi coming to Mandalore for help, all because this one Jedi had turned it into a public spectacle.

"I suppose your timing is fortuitous," Pre sounded bored and with his shields even stronger since Obi-Wan's training, there was no way for anyone who didn't know him well to see how nervous he was. "The first jetii to be officially executed on Mandalorian soil in centuries is a historic event." The Jedi let out a whimper and Obi-Wan almost wished he could reason with him, show him that this was the only mercy he could offer.

“The treaty states that Mandalore will turn the Jedi over to the Empire.” Vader sounded displeased. “I’ve chased this Jedi through four systems.”

"I think you will find that the treaty doesn't state that, it states that Mandalore will either turn the jetiise we find in our borders over to the Empire...or execute them ourselves. I could hardly deprive my people of a chance to watch a jetii die, given how we missed out on most of the excitement of your little purge." His tone was callous, as though he was discussing some innocent holodrama or similar, and not the death of a person whose biggest crime in the Empire's eyes was their past affiliations. 

Though, Obi-Wan couldn't help but wonder if Pre would have really done any differently, if he wasn't there or if the treaty weren't in place. Pre, and Death Watch, and most of the Faithful in general, despised Jedi.

Vader's mask turned slowly to face Obi-Wan, and there was a level of both mild confusion and cruel pleasure. "You'd execute this filth, here and now?" He could feel Vader focusing on him, prodding at him. Obi-Wan wouldn't let Vader in his mind, but he could almost feel the 'this is who you chose' the 'he doesn't care for you,’ with the continued ignorance that Vader would do just the same, and far worse.

"I would," Pre stated, ignoring that Vader's attention had shifted, though Obi-Wan could tell he was annoyed. He reached over the small gap between them, stroking a proprietary hand down Obi-Wan's back, though his eyes never left Vader. "The jetiise have done nothing but take from my people."

"Please, Obi-Wan." The Jedi whispered, and the sound cut through the whole room, there was a level of familiarity to it, as though the Jedi thought he knew him, though Obi-Wan knew he didn’t know who this Jedi was at all. 

Vader's breathing was the only sound in the room. "Your rid'alor," the term was said with utter disdain, "agrees with this decision?"

Obi-Wan leaned into Pre's touch, soaking up the little comfort it could offer. "I do." His voice was thankfully as calm as he hoped it would be, no trace of the internal battle he was waging showing. He'd resented Vader for many reasons in the past, but that he was forcing this situation was one of the worst. "I am Mando'ad and it is as my Mand'alor wills." 

The Jedi seemed shocked, as though he had expected more from Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan almost found humor in that. He couldn't have known much about Obi-Wan's situation, if he hadn't realized just how much he'd had to compromise already just to survive.

Pre stood from his throne, pulling the darksaber from his belt, igniting it. "We'd have killed him already, but we thought you'd want to be present. So unless there's anything more?"

Vader stared at Obi-Wan and he knew that he was trying to come up with some way to force him to do it, but there was none. The treaty didn't specify and it was the Mand'alor's prerogative to execute enemies of the state himself. The guards dragged the Jedi back to the center of the room, forcing him to his knees and holding him in please. 

"Please, please, Obi-Wan," he whispered, like some mantra. 

If Vader had not been so close, Obi-Wan might have comforted him, reminded him that he would become one with the Force now. Instead, he stayed beside the throne as Pre stalked towards the Jedi, some of his own enjoyment of having a Jedi begging at his feet, about to die, leaking out for Vader to see.

For all Pre's obvious enjoyment of the situation, he didn't draw it out, keeping his word to Obi-Wan that he would keep it as quick and painless as he could. Simply igniting his saber, gesturing for the two guards to step aside, and with a flick of his wrist beheading the Jedi. The feel of fear and despair suddenly and immediately cut off, the flickering light that was the Jedi vanishing into the Force. 

Pre gestured to the two guards again, ordering them to remove the body before turning to Vader. "You've seen to the death of the Jedi, your presence is no longer needed here on Mandalore."

Vader had never looked away from Obi-Wan, but that had given Obi-Wan the excuse to put most of his focus on Vader. There was a long moment of silence following Pre's declaration, during which Pre moved to stand beside Obi-Wan, wrapping his arm proprietarily around his waist. 

"Yes," Vader said, finally, voice cold, but Force signature full of a sort of calm speculation that Obi-Wan found worrying. "I can see that Mandalore will uphold its part of the treaty. And doubt other Jedi will be foolish enough to seek sanctuary here."

"They know exactly what will await them, if they dare," Pre agreed, arm tightening just a little around Obi-Wan's waist. 

Obi-Wan kept still and silent. Both of them were right, any of those quiet hopes Obi-Wan had of being able to provide shelter for some of those hidden Jedi were well and truly shattered now. But there was still Mandalore, still a people he could, and would, protect, keep free from the Empire and it's oppression.

Vader left soon after, not bothering with any diplomacy at all. As soon as the door shut behind him and his troops, Obi-Wan slumped into Pre, knowing the other would support him.

Pre barked quick orders for them to be left alone, gently maneuvering them both until Pre was sitting in his throne, settling Obi-Wan easily onto his lap, letting Obi-Wan hide his face in Pre's neck for a long moment.

"You did so well, to protect us, to protect our people," Pre comforted, letting go of his shielding and spilling emotions into the Force that he could latch onto as a distraction.

He did not feel like he’d done well, he’d simply made the only choice he could make. “There was no other choice.” Anything else would have led to war on Mandalore, the full might of the Empire brought to bear on them. “For Mandalore, for our people...” Saying the words out loud helped, he had failed the Jedi, but he’d protected Mandalore.

"Exactly. It was your duty as rid'alor." Pre's love and approval shone in the Force. "And you saved that jetii, even if he didn't realize it. You kept him from Vader, from Sidious."

Obi-Wan nodded, needing to believe it, using Pre’s certainty to shore up his own belief. “Thank you, Pre.” For having made the death quick and easy, for being here now, holding Obi-Wan tight and safe.

"Always, Ben, anything for you." Pre kissed him, sweetly, before he started guiding him out of the room, towards their own. "I'm so proud of you."

Vader’s presence in the system had woken them in the middle of the night, and while the execution of the Jedi had not taken forever, it was starting to get into the early hours of the morning. Early enough that Obi-Wan had just planned to start the rest of his day—keep his mind focused away from everything that had just happened—but Pre seemed to have different plans in mind. Gently removing Obi-Wan’s armor and pulling him back toward the bed.

He gave into whatever Pre wanted from him, from his body. Each touch distracting him from his feelings of guilt and remorse, of helplessness, until he was drowning in pleasure. This was one of many reasons he'd fallen in love with Pre again. 

After, lying in Pre's arms, wrung out and tired, he could forget for the moment that he'd ever been anything else.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is complete at eight chapters and will be updated every other day!


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